America Jones
by Omegas Prime
Summary: America Jones is the newest resident of Hope County as well as the newest deputy of the Sheriff's Department. Tough, religious, and the right amount of practical. She'll build up a resistance to fight back against Eden's Gate. May God have mercy on her soul. May God have mercy on EVERYONE.
1. Our Father Who Aren't in Heaven

'What have I gotten myself into?'

That was the thought going through America's head when she saw the giant statue of one Joseph Seed. AKA "The Father."

She looked back at her phone, while Sheriff Whitehorse and the Marshal talked about the Cult Eden's Gate. The videos uploaded by those vloggers had gone viral in a matter of days and was more then enough to warrant an arrest by the authorities.

The thing was, other then the Marshal, no one believed going after the Father was a good idea right now. Three deputies, a sheriff, and one marshal? From what she heard, they would need more then that.

Only three days she's been in Hope County, hardly any time to even unpack her stuff, and she's heard more things about the Project at Eden's Gate or Peggies as the locals called them, then anything else. And this was the valley that was famous for the greatest daredevil in the world, Clutch Nixon.

"Oh my Jesus . . ." The Marshal breathed bewildered.

"This is a bad idea." Deputy Hudson said.

America looked out the window and saw the main compound of Eden's Gate. An old, tiny, white church, stood proudly in front of a plethora of makeshift houses. It looked normal enough, but a second glance made you realize what it really was. A military base.

Sheriff Whitehorse once again tried to talk the Marshal out of doing this. But the Marshal was adamant on arresting Joseph Seed. They landed the helicopter and started walking through the compound.

The Sheriff, Marshall, Deputy Hudson, and Deputy Jones walked ahead. Deputy Pratt stayed in the chopper to await their return with the target.

America stayed in the back and saw the look of every Peggie eyeing her with suspicion, anger, and hatred. She saw one Peggie lighting a bonfire with a flamethrower. The eyes behind his leather mask sent chills down her spine. Her hand slowly reached for the butt of her .44 revolver when some cultists with ARs glared at her. Every pair of eyes she passed by stayed on her and when she looked behind a crowd of cultists were blocking their return route. She nearly yelped when a dog barked, rattling the chain-link fence and a Peggie told her to get lost and leave them.

She took a deep breath and rubbed the tattoo on her neck to calm her down. It always gave her strength.

The short walk to the church, that didn't even take three minutes, felt like an eternity. And through the whole walk the Marshal was acting like the toughest badass in the state. The Sheriff was trying to get him to realize that this was a sensitive situation and the wrong move could get them all killed. But the Marshal's bravado prevented him from seeing the danger and only seeing the glory this arrest would give him. He really believed none of this could, in no way, get out of hand.

They reached the church. America remembered seeing one almost like it in in the little town of Fall's End. From the other side she could hear the chorused song of "Amazing Grace."

After cooling down Marshal Burke, the Sheriff ordered Hudson to guard the door, to which she replied by pumping her shotgun. Then ordered Jones to follow him behind.

Quietly they opened the doors, just as the occupants of the church stopped singing.

"Something is coming. You can feel it, can't you? That we are creeping toward the edge . . . and there will be a reckoning."

A voice, strong and velvety, echoed through the church. It was so calming . . . loving almost . . . but there was an edge to it. And the more the man spoke, the more that edge felt like a knife being pressed into her chest making her more uneasy.

"That is why we started the project. Because we know what happens next. They will come. They will try to take from us. Take our guns. Take our freedom. Take our faith.

The three slowly walked through the church. It was dark, with the only light coming from the other end, silhouetting the man they were looking for: Joseph Seed. He was just a shadow now, but America could see plainly all the others. The cultists slowly rose from their seats when they saw them. Like the others outside, they glared at them with suspicion and rising anger.

'They all know why we're here.'

"But we will not let them."

"Sheriff—" The Marshal tried, but the Sheriff settled him down.

"We will not let their greed, or their immorality, or their depravity hurt us anymore!" Joseph preached with more intensity. "There will be no more suffering!"

"Sheriff." Burke tried again.

"Do not pull that trigger. Remain calm." Whitehorse pressed.

But the Marshal's patience ended as Joseph continued to preach. Burke raised up the warrant and spoke with a commanding voice.

"Joseph Seed! I have a warrant for your arrest on the suspicion of kidnapping with the intent to harm. Now I want you to step forward and keep your hands where I can see 'em!"

Slowly, Joseph raised his hands. The people began to shuffle. A couple people yelled out telling them to leave. Any second could mean life or death. The place was tense and it felt like it could snap any second like a thin string.

"Here they are . . . the locusts in our garden. You see they come for me. They've come to take me away from you. They've come to destroy all that we have built!"

Cultists gathered in front of the Father, ready to defend him. What once was a chorus of singing now was a chorus of hateful shouts. The more the crowd stirred the more restless they were becoming. It was like watching a pot of water boil. At first it seemed fine, but it was getting closer and closer to overflowing the edge.

America and Whitehorse stayed calm, but Burke was now reaching for his side arm, to which the Sheriff tried to stop him.

Just when it looked like things would result in a firefight, without even uttering a single word, Joseph calmed the entire room with his mere presence. America had never seen anything like that before.

"We knew this moment would come." He said. Behind him, America recognized the rest of the Seed family. John, Jacob, and Faith Seed gathered where the Father just stood before he addressed the crowd.

"We have prepared for it. Go." The crowd was hesitant. "Go." The Father insisted.

They didn't need to be told again and quietly they left, giving each of them a hateful gaze as they passed by.

"God will not let them take me." Joseph raised his hand in the air magnanimously and proclaimed, "I saw when the lamb opened the first seal and I heard as if it were the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts say, come and see…"

"Step. Forward." Burke said impatiently.

Joseph ignored him and continued. "And I saw and behold," He approached Burke, but then pointed at the Sheriff. "it was a white horse."

Joseph's eyes then made contact with America's. "And Hell followed with him."

America felt entranced by this man. Every word he spoke she felt inclined to listen to every syllable. The man was like pure charisma, but something inside her told her, warned her, to not listen. Something was wrong. Really wrong.

Joseph reached his hands out. Whether he was reaching out to her or for him to be cuffed she was unsure.

"Rookie, cuff the son of a bitch." The Marshal ordered.

. . .

"God will not let you take me."

She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes. Whatever she felt a moment ago, unease, fear, anxiety, it was now gone. Determination and anger. That's what replaced it. Remembering what she saw and what she heard and what she felt. It was like a veil was lifted from her mind and she could see plainly what this man was.

It was barely noticeable behind the man's tinted glasses, but The Father's eyes widened slightly when he saw the defiance in the Deputy's eyes.

She didn't have to be told twice. She pulled out her cuffs and roughly restrained Joseph Seed. All the while his siblings did nothing, except glare at her.

As she finished cuffing him, the Father whispered in her ear. "Sometimes the best thing to do . . . is walk away."

"Sometimes there are things you shouldn't walk away from." She challenged. Once again, putting a bit of surprise in The Father's eyes.

The walk back to the copter almost felt like a blur. The compound was now fully awake and riling up like a herd of spooked cattle. They saw their leader, their "Father" cuffed and being arrested and none of them were thrilled about it.

They slowly surrounded the four but made no sudden moves. They just shouted, they cursed, begged, heckled, did everything except attack. It was looking like the start of a riot . . .

And it became one when they started throwing rocks and Burke discharged his weapon.

Seed was put in the helicopter and the cultists charged. They jumped on the helicopter, they banged against the vehicle and reached in to try and pull The Father out of it. America and Burke pushed any of them that tried to get in, while the Sheriff and Hudson secured Seed.

The helicopter took off, with several people still on it. America strongly kicked off a few cultists and then caught Burke who was nearly dragged to the ground by a cultist who grabbed his arm. Burke fired his gun, killing the cultist or maybe the fall was what killed him.

America looked around. It was still a frenzy outside, with the only calm being from Joseph Seed, who was singing Amazing Grace. Looking out front America had a split second to see a cultist willingly throw themselves into the rotating fans of the helicopter.

Blood spattered, rotaries groaned and screeched. The copter spun like a tornado and everyone held on for dear life.

Then all went black.

She came to not long after. Her bleary eyes opened slowly, the sound of Nancy's voice, the mission director, was heard in the background. When America's eyes finally opened she saw everyone was upside down and out. The seat where Whitehorse sat was now empty.

'Did he fall out? Is he dead?' She didn't focus on those morbid thoughts. 'We need back up.'

"Amazing grace . . . how sweet the sound . . ."

Suddenly she heard the Father's soft voice and she tried reaching for the headphones to contact Nancy. She struggled, but grabbed them at last. Just as she was about to bring the speaker to her lips a strong hand grabbed her arm.

"that saved a wretch like me."

She stared into the green, yellow-tinted eyes of the father. Like everyone else, he was amazingly unharmed.

All she could do was stare as fear once again consumed her. Nancy, over the radio called again and again, sounding so desperate to hear someone.

The Father made her let go of the headphones and his eyes bore more deeply into her being.

"I told you God would not let you take me."

She wanted to curse him, but the words caught in her throat.

"Please. I need to know what's going on." Nancy pleaded.

Without taking his eyes off her, Joseph reached for the headphones and spoke into it.

"Dispatch."

"Oh God." Nancy gasped.

"Everything is just fine. No need to call anyone."

The fear inside her hitched even higher when Nancy responded.

"Yes Father. Praise be to you."

America's eyes widened, her heart felt like it would leap out of her chest. The Father leaned in, his hot breath burned more then the surrounding fire. And he whispered . . .

"No one is coming to save you."

He crawled out, just as the cultists finally caught up. They were all relieved to see their leader unharmed, even calling it a miracle. The fact they were all alive, she really couldn't fault them for thinking that.

"Everything is unfolding according to God's plan. I am still here with you." Everyone in the chopper was now waking up. The Father stood on top of a car and announced his flock. "The first seal has been broken. The Collapse has begun. We will take what we need. And we will preserve what we have. And we will kill all those who will stand in our way. And these." He pointed to them. "The harbingers of doom will see the truth."

"We gotta get out of here." Burke said." "We gotta get out of here!"

Both the Marshal and the Deputies tried to get out of their harnesses.

"BEGIN THE REAPING!"

But it was too late. Like a pack of wolves attacking an injured sheep, the cultists descended on the law-keepers. They took Pratt first. Hudson tried putting up a fight, she got in one hit before she was finally taken. Her screams was the last thing America heard from her fellow officer, before she was pulled out of sight.

Before they could get either Burke or America the helicopter lit up in flames.

"Let them burn." The Father said. "This is God's will. This is their punishment."

Burke finally got free. But instead of trying to help America, he crawled out and escaped.

"Hey! Hey! Help me! Get me out!" America screeched at the Marshal, but he ignored her.

She looked back at the flames. She tried again, she put all of her strength into this pull and finally the belts snapped, and she fell. America crawled out just in time before the flames got to her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey! They're getting away!" A cultist yelled.

America didn't even look back. Her legs kicked up dirt and sprinted. The cultists went around the copter and started shooting at her. She ducked and prayed no bullet would hit her. A few likely would have, if it weren't for the timely explosion from the helicopter knocking them all down. It gave her a window of opportunity to escape into the forest.

She ran. And ran. And ran. And ran. Until the shouts of the cultists were so distant they were barely audible.

And then she stopped. Just for a moment. To catch her breath. She was panting so hard her throat felt tense, her lungs felt like they were burning. She moved into a jog, until she came across a small decrepit cabin. With a single armed cultist.

Her hand reached for her pistol but stopped when she realized the noise from her gun would attract the others. She looked around and picked up a large stick.

Crouching, America crossed the threshold between her and the cultist and gave him a whack across the head.

He wasn't dead, but adrenaline still pumped through her body. She hit him again. She remembered Joseph Seed. Whack! She remembered how his fucking cultists brought down their chopper. Whack! She remembered how Nancy betrayed them. Whack! She remembered the Peggies that took her friends, kicking and screaming. Whack! She remembered how Burke left her to die!

WHACK!

Panting again. There was hardly anything left of the cultist's head now. She threw away the stick and took his gun before walking into the cabin.

She started pacing now. "Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Everything's fucked!"

The cult, Eden's Gate, Joseph Seed—fucking Joseph Seed—had them all between a rock and a hard place.

"What am I going to do?" She mumbled breathlessly. "I can't go back to the Sheriff's Station. Fuck, maybe I can call for help?" She took out her phone and remembered there was no signal in Peggie territory. "Maybe I can leave? Get help outside the valley—Fuck—no, they'll have all exits blocked off before then."

There was nothing. Nothing she could do. Nothing she could think of. The only thing she could do . . . is pray.

Inside the cabin was an old wooden cross tossed aside to the ground like garbage, to be replaced by the Eden's Gate symbol. She grabbed it, knocked over the Cross of Eden's Gate on a nightstand and placed the cross where it should have rightly belonged.

"God, our Lord, our true Father" Her hands clasped as she spoke under her breath. "Please, I don't know what to do. Please, give me a sign. This Joseph Seed, he's unlike anything I've ever seen. He claims to be your prophet, but I don't believe that. He uses his words and voice to control people. Manipulate them by using your name."

She looked at the cross. "He's like the Devil."

"Hello? Anyone hear me? Hello?"

Her radio! It was Marshal Burke.

"I think I lost them . . . I see . . . a trailer nearby. It's next to a long bridge. I'm gonna try and get inside. If anyone's still out there . . . If anyone's still alive . . ."

There was still hope. America giggled from relief. "There's hope."

She collected herself, then gathered whatever ammo was lying around and even took a pipe that was lying on the floor as a weapon. She left the cabin, walking over the fresh headless corpse she made.

The Peggies set up a couple of camps between her and the trailer, but she easily avoided them. It didn't take her long to find the trailer. After making sure there were no cultists around she walked in.

As soon as she stepped in, Burke shouted and charged her, pushing her against the wall. Once he realized who it was he apologized and backed off.

"I-I'm sorry, rook. I . . . I thought they got you too." He said breathlessly.

*THWAK*

"AH! What the fuck!?" He rubbed the spot on his face where she punched him. Hard.

"You son of a bitch . . . you left me to die. You left me at the hands of those maniacs!"

She tried punching him again, but he restrained her by grabbing her wrists. He was surprised to find himself being pushed back, even losing his grip on her. She was surprisingly strong.

Another punch collided with his face, but this time it put him on his back.

"Get a hold of yourself, Rook!" The Marshal tried calming her down.

"The Sheriff told you. He fucking told you!"

"I didn't know! I didn't know it was this bad!"

"Yes, you did. Because the Sheriff told you many times before we left. He told you many times on our way there and he even told you when we were walking through that fucking compound!"

"I am a US Marshal—"

"A US Marshal that got us all fucked over because he couldn't learn to use his head instead of his gun." She would not let him use his rank to intimidate her.

"Fine! I was wrong! I fucked up the situation. Is that what you wanna hear?"

America grabbed him by his vest and brought their faces almost nose to nose. Her blue eyes bore into his brown. "I want my friends back." She said through grit teeth. "So, you better have a good plan, otherwise God led me here just to kick your ass."

After a moment of silence, a moment for her words to sink into his head, he said, "I have a plan."

She pulled him up to his feet and both glared at each other.

The Marshal walked over to the trailer's gun rack. Before arming himself, his attention was taken by a portrait of the whole Seed family. Looking at their serene faces caused his glare to intensify.

"We're going to put this whole family away, Rook. All of them. Fucking lunatics!" He grabbed and threw the picture, shattering it.

America looked down at the portrait, seeing the cracks go over each sibling, save for Joseph himself. She stepped on the frame to join Burke, crunching the glass under her boot.

"We're gonna get out of this Rookie. First thing's first, gotta arm ourselves. Here." He handed her an AR rifle he raided from the rack. He took his own pistol and loaded it with a fresh clip. They both crouched down near a window that faced the main road.

"Alright, here's what we're gonna do. There's a road out there. We're gonna take it, we're gonna head northeast. It's probably only few hours back to Missoula. And then we're gonna come back here with the goddamn National Guard and then—"

Suddenly the window on the other side blasted to pieces. Bursts of gunfire went off. Eden's Gate had found them.

Both officers of the law took shelter and fired at anything that moved in the dark forest. America's rifle popped. Peggies went down one by one. They returned fire, their bullets imbedding in the body of the trailer or zooming over the officer's heads.

Burke fired his pistol, downed a Peggie, but didn't kill him. A cultist tried to help his comrade, but America shot him full of holes before he could reach. The downed cultist bled out.

Some of the cultists took cover behind stacks of timber. She saw a red barrel of gas sitting next to it. She took the shot and the rest of the cultists were obliterated in the explosion.

"I got the keys to the truck." Burke said, taking the window of opportunity. "Cover me!"

America laid down suppressing fire for the Marshal. One burst, two bursts, three. Reload and repeat. Peggies went down left and right. She got one in the head, another riddled with holes, one got shot in the gut and bled to death.

Many shot back, nearly taking her life. But by some stroke of luck or grace of God, they missed her and the peggies paid for their failure with their lives.

The truck engine finally came to life and Burke told her to get in. America didn't hesitate. She emptied her entire clip as she ran to the truck and got in. Unholstering her pistol, she released six bullets from her chamber as they sped off.

Burke crashed the truck through a Peggie, then through the gate. They had a moment of peace, but only a moment.

"You ok?" Burke asked.

"I'm fine." She responded. She reloaded each of her weapons.

"Nice work back there. I'd be dead if it weren't for you."

"What now?"

"Now we gotta get back, but we have to be smart about what we do. We don't know who we can trust. Fucking Nancy."

America wondered just how much of the Sheriff's department was working for Joseph and his family. They were screwed from the start! If she ever saw Nancy again, she'd put a bullet in through her skull.

Their moment of peace ended. Up ahead was a roadblock.

"Oh no. Oh no! They got the roads blocked."

The peggies saw them coming. One let off a flare and alerted the rest to their location. America leaned out of the truck and fired her assault rifle. She blasted one that stood on the road and another that was standing in the back of a truck. The others discharged their weapons or jumped out of the way before Burke ran them over. They crashed through the blockade and kept moving.

More white trucks followed behind them and all of them were firing bullets at them. America did her best to shoot the drivers, but Burke's erratic driving was messing up her shots.

"I'm going off road! Hang tight, I'm gonna try and lose them."

The truck hitched roughly, it nearly threw her out of the vehicle. It was bumpy now, but America managed to get a few good shots. She shot the drivers, making the trucks veer off course. One still alive Peggie driver crashed into another truck.

"There's some dynamite in the back use that!"

She reached into the back and found three sticks of dynamite in a toolbox marked "EXPLOSIVE."

Despite herself, she giggled sadistically, and lit a stick. She waited until the wick was just low enough before tossing it. It exploded right in the windshield of the cultist truck.

Another stick. She lit it and tossed it. A truck drove right over it, just as it exploded. Last stick and one last truck. Burke drove off a ramp. The dynamite spun high into the air when America threw it. The white truck that jumped off the ramp after them, caught the dynamite. The stick clanked against the back of the truck and destroyed the truck in midair like a Fourth of July firework.

"Yeah nice one, rook!" Suddenly, they heard a loud noise. "Is that a FUCKING PLANE?! Don't tell me they have air support!"

His question was answered in the form of bullets raining down on them as a white plane flew overhead.

A truck suddenly appeared in front of them, in the back cultists opened fire on them. Burke and America leaned down as bullets destroyed their windshield and shredded their seats.

"AAH, FUCK!"

America sprayed and prayed, taking out the cultists in the back. When the coast was clear she shot the driver and the truck veered out of their way.

"Nice, shot Deputy!"

They crashed through another blockade. More trucks arrived in front of them, this time with machine guns mounted on the back. America tried to take out the gunners before their high caliber bullets completely destroyed them.

They came onto a bridge just as the Eden's Gate plane came back around.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Burke screeched. Instead of releasing bullets, the plane released a dreaded whistling sound. "Oh no. Ohnonononononono! Rook!" The bomb collided, blowing up all the trucks on the bridge and causing theirs to plummet into the lake.

When they crashed into the surface of the water America hit her head against the dashboard. Her sight faded in and out of darkness as the truck sank. When she finally regained her sight she saw Burke swim to the surface, abandoning her once again.

She escaped the sinking vehicle and swam back up. She crawled to shore, breathing heavily. Her adrenaline had run out, she could hardly breath because of the water, and she was just so exhausted from all the excitement in the last hour.

In the distance she saw Burke get captured by the cultists. He tried putting up a fight like the others, but also like the others he got captured. Suddenly, she heard footsteps. She turned around and saw a shadowy figure standing over her.

She reached out desperately. "Help . . ." She gasped.

Her sight blacked out and she fell unconscious as the man picked her up. The cultists never found her.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **I'll be updating this story slowly. I'm waiting for the DLC's and live events to pass so I can use everything the game has to offer in my story. Don't worry there is more to come!**


	2. Dutch's Island

"My children . . . we must give thanks to God. The day I have prophesied to you has arrived. Everything I have told you has come true. The authorities who tried to take me from you are now in the loving embrace of my family . . . save for one. But this wayward soul will be found. They will be punished and in the end they will see our glorious purpose."

That voice. She recognized that voice.

America slowly came too. When she was fully awake she found that she was sitting on the floor, with her hands tied to the legs of a bed.

"W-where am I?" She said groggily.

Wherever it was it was dark and barely lit. A metal room, furnished like a bedroom. On one of the walls the American flag was set up.

"I am your father. You are my children. And together we will march to—"

The click of a radio being turned off garnered her attention to the only other occupant in the room. An aging man, tattooed, bald and spectacled. His attire suggested that he used to be military. He switched off the old radio before the Father could finish. He turned around and saw she was awake.

"You know what that shit means? It means the roads are blocked. It means the phone lines have been cut. It means there's no signal getting in or out of this valley." He took a seat in front of her. "But mostly it means we're all fucked."

America tugged on her bindings. It was futile, but she had to try.

"Release me now." America said. "I am a deputy of the Hope County Sheriff's Department. An officer of the law!"

"Oh, are you now? You know what that also means? It also means you're one of the idiots who kicked the hornets' nest and put the Peggies into a frenzy. These fuckers have been waiting years for their "prophecy" to come true. Waiting years for a sign of the end times, their "Collapse." They've been waiting for someone to come along and kick off their goddamn holy war."

She looked down, almost ashamed to be the cause for Eden's Gate. "What's happening out there?"

"The Peggies think it's the end of the world. Or at least on the brink of it. They're doing whatever they can to "save" whatever they can. Whether people want them to or not."

. . .

The man leaned back. He looked to be thinking something over.

"You know the smartest thing for me to do . . . is to hand you over."

Her throat tightened and her eyes narrowed challengingly.

A split-moment passed between them in silence. Until the old man sighed a curse and stood up. He pulled out a pocket knife, making America nervous for a moment. Her bad feelings subsided when he cut the ties on her wrists.

"But if I did that . . . nothing'd be fixed, and I'd hate to help those freaks. Get out of those clothes we need to burn them." He pointed to a locker. "There's some spare clothes in there, take what you want. Then come see me. Let's see if we can't . . . un-fuck this situation."

When he was out of the room, America sighed in relief. She wasn't a prisoner. Good. She wasn't going to be handed to the cult. Doubly good!

She undressed, leaving her uniform in a bundled pile and walked over to the locker. Most of the clothes were men's sizes. They'd be a bit baggy on her, but they'd at least fit. She settled on a red, long-sleeved sidewinder shirt and light cargo pants.

A small mirror was present in the door of the locker. She saw green eyes staring back at her. She looked at her fair face and saw she had a gash over her olive skin. Right where she banged her forehead against the dashboard of the truck when it plummeted into the water.

'That's gonna scar when it heals.' She thought.

Taking a hairband she tied her neck-length brown hair into a bun to keep her bangs out of her eyes. She handled her badge, her pride and joy, and stuck it on the side of her belt. When she was all dressed and set she walked out into a corridor. America was now realizing that she was inside a bunker. A very impressive bunker to say the least.

"Eli! It's Dutch, come in! Can you hear me!?"

She followed the man's voice and found him in a room lit by red lights. Her eyes widened as she saw on one of the walls, a map of all of Hope County, with pictures of the Seed family stapled to certain regions of the valley.

 **John Seed – The Baptist**

Youngest of the Seed Brothers and maybe the most sadistic.

In charge of "recruiting" for the cult—MARKING, CLEANSING, CONFESSION, ATONEMENT . . .those are the four steps he put everyone through to become a member of Eden's Gate—if they survive.

John tells everyone to accept "THE POWER OF YES" as a way to get his followers to do whatever the fuck he wants. GRADE A PSYCHOPATH.

 **Faith – The Siren**

Don't know how she's related—just showed up one day.

She'll spin you a sob story, but Faith Seed is a LIAR and a MANIPULATOR. She'll poison your mind with BLISS if she gets the chance.

Anyone who goes wandering into the Henbane River winds up dead or "WALKING THE PATH" to become one of her brain-dead ANGELS doing all the cult's hard labor.

 **JACOB SEED – The Soldier**

Oldest of the Seeds. In charge of TRAINING their militia up in the Whitetail Mountains.

Only thing he believs in is "SACRIFICE THE WEAK." Seems to be running a few psychological experiments up north—all sort of nightmare stories about people turning on one another at the drop of a hat . . .

Has been linked to the creation of the monster wolves up north the cult calls JUDGES.

 **Joseph Seed – The Father**

Leader of the project at Eden's Gate. He believes a great "COLLAPSE" is coming and thinks of himself as a modern day Noah.

Thinks God speaks to him—told him to SAVE AS MANY SOULS AS HE CAN. Now that he's started THE REAPING, his followers are willing to die for him.

He's had his people build three massive BUNKERS to protect themselves when his "PROPHECY" comes true . . . the guy is an absolute NUTJOB.

"I'm glad you found something that fits." Dutch interrupted her reading. She turned to face him. "I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Dutch. I've been trying to piece together what's happening up top. It ain't pretty. What I have been able to gather is that your partners are alive."

"The Sheriff and Marshal? Deputies Hudson and Pratt?" She asked hopeful.

"Yeah, but don't get too excited. They've been split up, handed off to a different member of Joseph's family."

"Then I'll get them back. Whatever it takes. It's my job to uphold law and order and if that means I have to kill each and every one of the Seed Family to do it, then so be it."

"I like your attitude." Dutch smiled. "But that's easier said then done. There's no help coming, Deputy. As I said all lines in and out of the valley have been cut. No one outside is going to know what's happening here until it's too late."

He sighed like the tired old man he looked. "You want to save your friends. I get it—I got friends who're taken too. But if we're going to save them, then we need to find people willing to fight. We need to build up a resistance."

America smiled, before chuckling. "This is Montana, Dutch. There's always people out here ready for a fight, no matter what, where, or who it is."

Dutch gave her an equal chuckle. "Damn right. But before we can start taking the fight to the cult, we need to establish a base of operations. We need to take control of this island. Once we got some breathing room . . . we can figure out what comes next."

"Agreed." She put her hand on her holster confidently, only to realize her gun was no longer in it. "My gun. Where's my gun?" She asked almost desperately.

"Oh, sorry." Dutch apologized. "I kept it locked up for safe keeping." He grabbed a small remote and clicked a button. It opened up a safe nearby. "There's a map of the island in there too that you can use as well as a key to my armory if you need some supplies. Help yourself. You're gonna need it."

America hurried over to the safe. Inside was the map and key, but what she really wanted was her gun back.

"That's a nice piece." Dutch complimented.

It was a silver and white .44 magnum pistol. With a chamber for six rounds, stainless steel body, and inlaid with ivory.

It was her most prized possession. "A gift from my Ma when I finally became a Deputy. She said to use it wisely, to only fire it when it was truly necessary. My dad, a God believing man, said to only use it when true judgment was needed." She fondled the barrel caringly.

"And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this . . . the **Judgement**."

"Hebrews 9:27. I'm surprised your quoting the bible in these times." Dutch said.

"Now more then ever I need my faith. If I truly believe God is watching over men like Joseph Seed and his ilk . . . I don't even wanna imagine . . ."

"I get it. I get it. If you need more rounds, check my armory."

"Thanks Dutch."

America used the key to get into Dutch's armory. She had to admit, it was an impressive collection. The man had everything from handguns, to rifles, to even rocket launchers. As tempted as she was to take the latter, you didn't win wars with just rocket launchers. So, she settled with taking ammo, a ballistic vest, and a unique AR-C rifle, outfitted with a red-dot sight and extended magazine.

After raiding the armory, she walked through the corridor to leave the bunker. She found the door to the bunker and pressed the button to release the locks.

The doors opened, darkness was destroyed by light and blinded her. After waiting for her eyes to adjust, America found she was in a forest. She looked at her map, now that she could see, and realized she was on one of the two islands in the middle of Hope County.

"Now listen up." Dutch said over the radio. "If we're going to build a resistance, then we need to take this island to start with. We'll shake up the cult then kick them when their down."

"What'cha got in mind, Dutch?"

"The cult's still looking all over the place for you. They've taken the workers on this island hostage. These are good men, deputy, some of them might fight along side you if you help them."

"Even if they didn't I'd still save them, Dutch."

"Good girl. While you're at it, why not destroy some of Eden's Gate property that's all over the place now. Hell, the cults erected a couple of goddamned shrines on this island alone."

America's weapons clicked as she checked them. "They build'em up, I'll tear them down."

"Well if you're that eager, then I suggest taking on an enemy outpost. Eden's Gate has a lot of them spread across the county. Liberating those places will give the resistance a solid foothold to push Eden's Gate back."

"Anything else?"

"Just one last thing . . . help whoever you can, Deputy. There's a lot of people waging their own war out there against the cult . . . and they could use someone like you watching their backs."

"They can count on me."

"I got cameras all over this island. If I see anything noteworthy I'll let you know. For now, head south and take out any cult shit you see . . . good luck. Dutch Out."

America followed the trail leading away from the bunker. It didn't take long for her to find the cultists. They had apparently just raided a lookout tower and were beating up a ranger for any information on her.

There were two peggies. A man and a woman, wearing the signature white wool shirts and armed with guns. The woman stood sentinel while the man was interrogating the ranger.

The Deputy crouched and slowly made her way to the woman. She pulled out Judgement and leveled it by the woman's head.

"Let him go!" Everyone, but the woman looked at her.

"Deputy. We've been looking for ya."

"Let him go now, Peggie!"

"The Father wishes to see you, Deputy Jones." The woman said. There was no trace of fear or worry in her voice, despite the fact she was a hostage.

"I will not ask again!"

Why were these two so unconcerned?!

"The Father wishes to see you." The man repeated. "We want you, not him." He motioned to the hostage.

"If you want him released, come with us to the Father." The woman said.

"Are you both deaf? I have your comrade here at gun point! You're in no position to make demands."

"Tabitha."

The two locked eyes as if only communicating through their souls. America looked between them. She had no idea what the hell was happening.

"For the Father, I shall walk by our Lord's side and watch from on high as the world is reborn anew."

It all happened in a blink. There was a click. Then a BANG! And Tabitha fell to the dirt with a self-inflicted bullet hole under her chin. Her pistol was clenched tightly in her hand.

America didn't even have time to process what just happened. She had to roll behind a tree before she was fired at by the male Peggie.

She yelled out as a bullet deeply grazed her arm.

"Give yourself up Deputy. And embrace the light of The Father. For he will save us all from the Collapse."

"Fuck you, you psycho!"

His rifle went off again, causing the tree she hid behind to splinter.

"Stop making this tough! The Father only wants to save you and make you a part of our family."

America shot blindly from behind the tree. "The father can kiss my ass!"

The cultists sidestepped awkwardly avoiding her shots. He tried going around to get a better angle.

"You blasphemous bitch! I'll take you to Joseph half dead if I have to." He fired his rifle again. The tree splinted more, and America moved around the tree while also trying to press further against it.

Then she heard a clicking sound. Multiple clicking sounds. The cultist was out of ammo. Without hesitation she twirled around and fired. The Peggie leaned forward clutching his gut in pain. America pressed forward and put a bullet in his skull.

She breathed in and out heavily. Her eyes drifted toward the cooling corpse of the woman. From her position she could see the exit hole from the suicide bullet. Then she looked over at the guy who didn't even bat an eye at his friend's death. A hole in his gut and his head. She grit her teeth angrily.

"What the fuck is wrong with these people? Their so quick to die for—how can they just—such a waste."

Her memory recalled last night. A Peggie willingly threw themselves into the spinning blades of a helicopter just to stop them from taking Joseph Seed. America felt like smacking herself for forgetting that. This zealotry was lethal in so many ways.

"Excuse me?" A voice drew her attention. "Could you untie me?" The ranger asked nicely.

"Sorry." She walked over to him and cut him loose.

"Thanks. You must be the deputy that the cult is looking for."

"Yep."

"I'm lucky you came along when you did. Did Dutch send you out?"

"That's right. We're building a resistance. Starting with this island."

"You know, there's a prepper stash near the boat house over yonder. Maybe there's something you can use against the peggies."

"Thanks . . . uh . . ."

"Henry. I run this tower here."

"Deputy Jones. Thanks, Henry. Stay safe."

America made her way to the boat house and found the stash the ranger was talking about. Unfortunately, it was under water due to a pipe burst and so she had to go treasure hunting for a key in a locked boat house.

Thankfully, boathouses aren't safe from people who swim underneath them. She grabbed the key used it to activate a pump to drain the water. Most of what was inside was wet and unsalvageable. But she did find some dynamite perfectly preserved in a metal container, as well as some cash.

"Hey Deputy, its Henry. I've set up shop in the ranger tower. From here I can see the cult's set up a shrine on the northern part of the island. Figured something like that would interest ya."

"Thanks Henry. I appreciate it."

"No problem. We got to stick together. Whatever you need to stick it to the cult, I'll do everything in my power to help."

So, she traveled north and found the Eden's Gate Shrine out in the open. The structure was small and church-like. White, pointed roofs, and stood fifteen feet tall. And from what she saw through her binoculars, there was some kind of red tank inside it. Said tank was leaking a foggy, green gas.

'The peggies must operate in twos.' She thought because once again there were two peggies in front of the shrine. They were surrounded by boxes and tools and seemed to be packing up.

She put her binoculars down. "They must have just finished building that thing." Even if she wanted to, she couldn't hold back her sinister smile.

The two peggies seemed to be doing different jobs. While one was packing up, the other was giving a final examination of the structure. This left them alone and vulnerable.

She snuck through the brush, careful not to make too much noise. America got behind the lone cultist, out of sight from the second one and smoothly grabbed their head and twisted, with a sickening crack. They fell dead.

The second was none the wiser and so America snuck up on them too and performed the same neck-twist as the last. Now that the coast was clear she approached the shrine to get a better look at it.

When she got closer, she inhaled some of the fumes. Her vision started to become somewhat blurry and starry. She groaned, her body felt lighter and her mind, her thoughts, became freer. The light around her was brighter and hurt her eyes. When she heard the faint sound of a girlish laugh, and no one was around, she knew something was wrong.

Realizing this she quickly stepped back. When she was cleared of the fumes, she rubbed the stars from her eyes and everything went back to normal in seconds.

"Is this that bliss stuff that people are talking about?"

In her youth she had done a bit of drugs. She recalled her stupid teenage years and the first time she was high or drunk, but she had never taken anything that made her feel the way bliss made her feel.

It was only for a moment, her mind felt clear, so clear. Like it was being emptied of all thoughts, both negative or happy. She'd be lying if she said it didn't feel good. Hell, she'd say it felt great! But she felt so vulnerable too . . .

Shaking her head, there was no time to dwell on it. If this stuff was bliss then it was dangerous and the cult was spreading it around via these shrines. They had to go. Any chance she found these things, she'd destroy them.

Lighting a stick of dynamite, she stuck it in one of the holes of the shrine and got clear. The explosion was bigger then she anticipated it would be. Dirt, rocks and wood were flung all over the place. The earth beneath her rocked from the boom alone. When she peered from behind the rock she used as cover, all that was left of the shrine was a small crater.

Apparently, bliss was highly explosive.

"Shit—kid, I just saw the cult grab a guy down by the docks. If you help him out, maybe he'll be willing to fight the cult with you."

"The docks? That's not too far off from where I was. Thanks, Dutch."

America doubled back. She arrived back at the docks, but this time on the other side of the pond. Once again, two cultists. One interrogating the hostage, the other in overwatch.

Learning from her mistake, Deputy Jones decided stealth was the best option. These cultists won't listen to authority. She cracked her knuckles. But they'll listen to force.

She picked up a rock and chucked it a distance. The noise the rock made drew the attention of the highly alert guard. It made it all the easier to grab their mouth and twist their neck.

Now for the lone interrogator. America crouched and slowly walked across the dock. Her feet made low creaky noises and soon the Peggie would turn and see her. So, she went for broke and sprinted, the Peggie didn't have time to lift his gun, until her fist was in his chest and then in his face. The cultist fell into the water. He was still alive, no doubt, but if he was unconscious then he wouldn't be for long.

"God's will, motherfucker." She spat and then untied the hostage.

"You saved my bacon, thank you." The hostage picked up the peggie's shotgun.

America saw the man's nametag on his jacket. "Jesse Reed." He worked at the Ranger Station of the island.

"You're welcome. You know how to use that thing?"

"Wouldn't be holding it if I didn't."

"Confident good. I'm liberating this island, you wanna help out?"

"Gettin' some payback from the peggies? Count me in. In fact, I know where we can hit them where it hurts. The Forest Research Station. They're using it as some kind of depot for their goddamned Bliss."

"Then let's go take it."

It was a short walk to the station. The peggies were unloading green boxes and barrels off a boat and setting them down all over. Scoping through her binoculars, America could see one hostage inside the cabin.

"That's Phil." Jesse said. "We got to help him." He started to stand up, but she grabbed his arm.

She pulled him back down to cover and told him in a hushed tone, "We can't go in guns blazing. We got to be smart. Can't risk the cultists killing Phil or calling for more help." She pointed at a specific Peggie. "See that guy down by the docks? I'll take him. You get that guy carrying the boxes."

Jesse nodded, and both jumped down from the small cliff they were perched on and entered the outpost.

Jesse pulled out a pocket knife. When he was in reaching distance, he covered the cultists mouth and stabbed him repeatedly in the chest. Then slowly brought the man's corpse down to the ground.

Amercica snuck up on her target. She tapped his shoulder. When he mindlessly turned around she socked him in the throat. Grabbing his caved in neck, the Peggie choked to death.

She saw Jesse had finished his target and gave him a thumbs up, but then she motioned for him to freeze. A Peggie was coming right up to him, but couldn't see the man because he was behind some crates. Jesse then pointed above her. She looked up and saw a Peggie scanning the distance above her.

Jesse grabbed a rock and tossed it away. It made the grass rustle, but it distracted the cultist long enough for him to grab them and slit their throat. America actually popped out from her hiding area and grabbed the peggie's legs. They fell, the back of their head slammed against the rock and their neck made a loud crack sound.

Only four more left.

Jesse flipped his knife in the air, grabbing it by the blade and threw it at a cultist. She fell dead with the blade in her head. Suddenly, a cultist walked around the corner and nearly shouted out, but America got to him in time to snap his neck.

Confused, Jesse went around the corner to see the third one had been knocked out. No, he was dead. America punched him so hard that their neck twisted.

Only one left in the cabin. She was watching over the hostage.

The two didn't even bother being quiet about it. Jesse entered through the door the Peggie was facing, while America entered the one behind her. Before the cultist could raise her weapon, America shot her from behind. He blood splattered on the desk.

"Jesse!" Phil yelled out. "You're alive, thank God!"

"You're okay now, Phil." Jesse cut off his bindings.

Phil stood up and rubbed his wrists in pain. "Yeah, I'm fine, but not the others. They took the fucking ranger station, Jesse."

"Kelly? Dave? Winston?" Jesse said worriedly.

"Kelly died trying to fight them off. I . . . I saw them shoot her in the head. No hesitation. J-just one second she was shouting then the next . . . gone."

Jesse slammed his fist on the table. Both men looked to be on the brink of tears. "The others?"

"Alive. But I don't know for how long."

"We'll save them." America said walking up to the two. "I promise you we will."

"Don't go making promises you can't keep." Phil said bitterly.

"You coming, Jesse?"

"Fuck yeah." He pumped his shotgun. "For Kelly."

"W-wait! What should I do?"

"Tie up any of the cultists that are still alive around here."

"T-that's it?"

Phil didn't look like much of a fighter, so she really couldn't ask him to fight. America looked at the desk and saw a piece of paper from the cult. Apparently, they set up another shrine not too far away.

She handed the man a stick of dynamite she got from the prepper stash. Phil looked alarmed holding an actual explosive.

"There's a shrine to the southwest of here. If you want, go destroy it. Hurt the peggies in any way you can."

Phil gripped the dynamite tightly before nodding wordlessly.

America nodded back and then motioned for Jesse to follow.

They arrived at the Ranger Station. Four peggies had the two rangers hostage.

"What's the plan, Deputy?"

"We got to get them away from the hostages." She scratched her chin in thoughts. "Okay, here's what we'll do."

"You won't get away with this!"

"Shut it! Or we'll kill you like your friend. Be thankful that you'll be part of the new world."

"I don't want anything to do with—ARGH!"

The Peggie hit him with the butt of their gun. "Quiet, non-believer!

A shotgun fired, drawing everyone's attention.

"Hey, you cultist shits! You didn't get everyone!" Jesse yelled out. He fired his shotgun again before running into the woods.

"Get that bastard!"

"Gloria, stay and watch the hostages!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

The three cultists ran after Jesse, leaving Gloria to watch Dave and Winston.

"You won't get away with this." Winston said.

"The Father's path is a righteous one. You would be wise to join us."

"Fuck you! You killed Kelly, you bitch!"

Gloria was about to strike Dave, but America crept up behind her and struck the back of her head.

"W-who are you?"

"Deputy Jones. I'm here to help. You guys know how to use a gun?"

The three cultists followed Jesse a ways. They hid behind trees when he suppressed them with gunfire. But they had the number advantage, so two could return fire, while the other got closer.

"Come on, you cultist fucks! That the best you got!" Jesse roared over his shotgun blasts.

He emptied his gun and reloaded. After pumping his shotgun he fired again and tried hitting either three that was hiding behind the trees. But the click of a gun made him freeze in place.

"Hello, sinner." A cultist smiled evilly. "put down your gun."

"Shit." Jesse cursed as he reluctantly put down his gun.

"Roger, Denise! I got him!"

. . .

There was silence. "Roger? Denise?"

Still no answer.

The cultist pressed his weapon against Jesse's head. "What happened?! Who the fucks with you?"

Then there was a click behind his head. Judgement was placed firmly behind his skull.

"Put it down." America said seriously.

"Bitch, I got a gun to your boy's head."

"And I have guns pointed at your friend's heads, as well as your own." A few feet a ways Dave and Winston had guns pointed at a restrained Roger and Denise.

"We are not afraid to die. Our path is a righteous one. The Father will save us all, the willing and the unwilling. If we must die to ensure the future then we will do so happily and without—GRAH!"

Fluidly, Jesse grabbed the man's gun, then struck him in the face with it.

Jesse panted. "Sorry, I just really wanted to shut him up."

America smirked as she holstered her revolver.

They dragged the three back to the station and put them next to Gloria. The four, America, Jesse, and the other two rangers started cleaning up the mess that the cultists made. When everything was back in its place, the group tried deciding what was to happen with the prisoners they had.

"We should just kill them."

"No Dave, we aren't just going to flat out execute them." Jesse said.

"They killed Kelly! Our friend!"

"I know! Damnit, I know!" Jesse screamed back. "But we aren't like them. Killing people because it suits our needs."

"Then what do you suggest we do, huh? We can't take them to the police, those fucks are on the cult's side."

"Hey, you guys know—" Winston tried to voice, but got sidelined by more shouting.

"I don't know, alright Dave. Maybe . . . maybe we can put them in the shed in the back." Jesse suggested.

"Guys?"

"The shed?! And what?! Waste our limited food and water on them? And for how long? When this blows over? IF this blows over?!"

"Guys?"

"I don't have all the fucking answers, Dave! I just don't think we should execute people like a lynch mob."

"Guys?"

"They'd do the same to us!"

"GUYS!"

"WHAT?!"

"Are you forgetting that we have a deputy in our midst." Winston said.

The three men turned to the sole Deputy who was keeping an eye on the four prisoners. She heard every word the three said.

"What do you think, Deputy Jones?" Jesse asked.

Her eyes never left the prisoners as she thought about what to say. "Dave's right, the Sheriff's Department is compromised. Has been for who knows how long. I don't know what its like outside this island, but if its even half as bad as Dutch says it is, then we're in trouble."

"This is a small island." She continued. "And yet look at what we've done here. Imagine all of this on a much bigger scope. Who really knows how much control the cult's taken."

Suddenly, there was a hoarse chuckle. The one laughing was the man that Jesse knocked out, whose name they learned was Ralph Fredricks. Apparently, he was the one in charge of the operations on the island.

"The Father has taken all of Hope County. Because of what you and your heathen friends did, the Collapse is nearly upon us. You . . . have heralded the coming end and Eden's Gate will take everyone and everything we need to survive. And kill anyone that tries to stop us."

"Like Kelly?" Jesse growled.

"She shouldn't have been so defiant."

"We tried to help her, but she spat on our good will."

"The Father's good will."

"You bastards!" Both Jesse and Winston held back Dave.

"The Heralds, as we speak, are spreading the Father's word and influencing the remaining lost souls of this valley. You should all be grateful for his kindness and generosity. A lesser man would have left you all to die. But the Lord chose a wonderful man like Joseph Seed to lead us past the Collapse."

"You really think he's saving people?" America asked calmly.

"We do. He is the man chosen by God."

"Enough of this! Let's just kill them!" Dave pulled out a handgun, but Jesse wrestled it away from him before he could use it.

"Stop, Dave!"

"Come on, Dave! I know you're pissed off, but not like this . . ." Winston tried to reason.

"I'm sick and tired of hearing these fuckers blather on like they're some great blessing from God. They aren't. They're monsters! Murderers! If we let them live, they'll try to kill us. I refuse to keep these guys alive for even another second."

"That's not your decision!"

"Then whose is it? God's?! You heard what they said. God's on their side, and I'm willing to believe it, because why would God allow this shit to happen to us? Why would he allow a good woman like Kelly to die?!"

"Dave—"

*BANG*

*BANG*

The three jumped and turned around. They thought they were under attack again, but what they saw surprised them. Two of the prisoners, Roger and Denise, were lying on the ground, blood leaking from a single fresh hole in their foreheads.

America turned her revolver onto Gloria, who was just as shocked as everyone else.

*BANG*

The gun went off, ending her life instantly.

"You killed them!" Ralph wailed angrily. "You murdered them in cold blood, you heathenistic whore!"

*BANG*

Ralph's body slumped forward, his blood joined the collecting pool in the dirt.

Jesse, Winston, and Dave, looked at the four dead bodies. There eyes were still wide and their jaws slacked. They did not expect a law-serving citizen, a Sherrif's Deputy, to kill someone outright like that. When Jesse lifted his eyes to look at America's face, her look was devoid of emotion. Calm, indifferent, as if what she just did was normal.

"Y—you killed them." Dave gulped.

"Wh-why did you . . ." Winston tried to find the words, but his voice hitched in his throat.

"Because there's no other choice." She said. "Without anywhere real secure, we can't afford to take prisoners. These Peggie fucks aren't afraid of dying. They aren't afraid to sacrifice themselves for their bloody crusade. For their beloved 'Father.'" She spat that word out like poison.

"Still . . . was there no other way?" Winston asked.

Her next sentence had a tone of remorse in it. "What I did to these four is unethical. They should have been tried and imprisoned, but we don't have that option anymore." She took a deep breath to collect her thoughts. "We're all going to have to make some hard decisions in the future. Right now, we need our heads cool and these assholes wouldn't help. We have to secure this island. Can you guys do that?"

The three looked at the bodies. A little longer then they should've.

"Can you guys do that?" She asked more intensely.

"Yes, ma'am." Jesse said.

"Sure thing, mis." Winston responded.

"Yeah, Deputy." Dave answered.

The three walked off to get the area more secure. They talked about a supply truck not to far from them in the woods that could help get them started.

"Dutch, you there?" America spoke to her radio.

"I am, and I heard what ya said. Sorry you had to do that, Deputy. Executing four unarmed men, even if deserved, is not easy. But it says a lot about how far you're willin' to go to save this county. There's more of a fight in you then I thought."

". . . thanks, Dutch."

"You got a real shot at setting up this resistance. Next is to clear up the radio signal. My CB's on the fritz. I can't get a hold of anyone off this island. The tower's located on the south side of the island, it must be busted or something. Think you can take care of that for me?"

"I'm on it."

She was about to leave but stopped when she stared at the bodies. They were horrible people that deserved what they got. If she did not kill them, they would not have been merciful to others.

. . .

Still, she felt sick to her stomach to have to execute them like that. Deserving or not. These were once civilians. Just normal folk living their lives. Yet, twisted by Joseph Seed's words. Was she going to have to do that everywhere? Be judge, jury, and executioner? She hoped not . . . but she didn't kid herself.

She left the bodies, putting them the furthest from her mind. Whatever fate was left to them, she'd leave it to the rangers. Still though, why couldn't she get their faces out of her head?

America arrived at the radio tower. After flipping a switch at the very top, she got a better signal on her radio and phone. Unfortunately, they were still restricted to inside the valley.

"Nice job, kid. I'm getting a strong signal now! Open up your map and I'll run you through what I know."

America ziplined her way down off the tower and walked into the garage next to it. She unfurled her map and looked at the three different regions.

"Alright, listen up, Deputy. Hope County is divided into three regions. Jacob Seed, the older brother of the fuckin' family, runs the Whitetail Mountains. He trains the cult up there. Eli and his Whitetail Militia are putting up a fight, but Jacob's about ready to step on their necks."

"South-east of there you got the Henbane river, run by Faith Seed. The little "sister." I've heard all sorts of stories about people losing their minds in a place called "The Bliss." You be careful walking around that place. From what I hear illusions and madmen walk all over the place."

"Then finally to the west is Holland Valley. John Seed's just rolled in there and started taking everything. Food, supplies, and worst of all . . . people. I'm picking up a bunch of calls all over the damn place. I'll keep you posted on anything that might be useful."

"Thanks Dutch. Fog looks to be clearing, I'll roll out now. I should start with Holland Valley, sounds like John's just getting started with his work. Better make sure he doesn't do a good job."

"Oh shit!"

"Dutch?"

"Kid, ya near a tv?"

"Yeah?" She walked over to turn it on.

"You better turn it on. Something you should see."

The box tv came to life and on it was John Seed in all his smug glory.

"We are all sinners. Everyone of us." He said calmly. "You. Me. Even the Father, knows greatly of sin. It's a poison that clouds our minds."

He walked forward toward two members of Eden's Gate. "What if I told you, you could be free from sin? What if I told you, that everything you ever dreamed of, could come true? What if I told you that everything could be overcome if you embraced an idea: That freedom from sin, could come from the power of just one word . . ."

The members walked off to the side as John kept getting closer and closer to the camera. John smiled pleasantly and raised his arms magnanimously.

"YES!"

The crowd clapped and applauded, eating up every turd that John was spewing from his mouth. Then from the side, they brought out Hudson. Gagged and bound, led by a single armed guard. Her makeup messily ran down her face from all the tears she cried. She stared out into the unseen crowd with a pleading look in her eyes, but none of the cult would ever aid her. Physically she looked fine, psychologically though . . .

John got behind Hudson and continued his spiel. "YES, I am a sinner. YES, I wish to be unburdened. YES . . . I must be . . ." His slimy hands reached for her throat, causing the deputy to shudder in terror, "redeemed. If you're watching this, know that you have been selected."

John left Hudson's side and walked up to be the only seen on screen. "You will be cleansed. You will confess your sins and you will be offered atonement. Don't worry! You won't have to do anything."

His smile broadened. "We'll come to you."

"Welcome to Eden's Gate."

The crowd chanted "John" as he walked off screen. If there was anymore, America didn't see it, because she tossed the tv onto the ground in rage. Her friend was a captive of that psychopath. Hudson had been like a mentor to her when she first arrived in Hope County. She was more then happy to show America the ropes and even show some key places around the valley.

And that smarmy bastard, John Seed had her in his sadistic grasps. It was obvious the poor woman was tortured and terrified, any normal person could see that. Yet the cult just ate up everything he did and said like the mindless sheep they were!

"John Seed's got your partner, Deputy. You gotta get goin' and help her." Dutch said.

Wordlessly, America grabbed a pair of keys to the ATV that was in the garage. She hopped on and revved up the machine.

"No shit, Dutch. I'm about to teach that motherfucker what his parents should have . . . how to say 'no.'"


	3. Booming With Boomer

'He's just a kid.'

When the fog dissipated America left Dutch's island. Leaving it in the care of Both Dutch and Jesse.

Her first destination was going to be Holland Valley. After that commercial by John Seed, she couldn't leave her fellow Deputy in that man's hands. Before leaving she asked Dutch to keep an ear out for the rest of her law-enforcing allies, as well as any other distress signals.

The destination she was originally heading to was the small town of Fall's End. A good place to set up a base of operations and from what she heard already had resistance leaders there. Though they were apparently under attack.

But before getting there Dutch asked her to check in on the Rae-Rae Pumpkin Farm across from the Gardenview Plantation. He had friends there and it was close by.

But when she had gotten there, it was too late. The cultists murdered everyone, leaving only the family dog. After killing the three stooges who murdered the family, she freed the dog and he led her toward three bodies, clutching each other in a deathly embrace.

A mom . . . a dad . . . and a son. No older then thirteen he looked like. A gunshot in his back. The mother got shot in the throat . . . choked on her own blood, holding her son. The father was on top of them both, the back of his head was blown open by a bullet.

The dog, Boomer she figured out, was whining sadly as he watched over their chilling bodies.

'A whole family . . . dead. And for what?!' The sight sickened her more than anything she'd seen from the cult so far.

"Joseph Seed . . . fucker claims to care about the people but look at this." She said to no one but herself. "Where's the decency here? Where's the justice? Where's the humanity? A man of God?! Fucker is the devil himself!" America kicked a potted plant, knocking it over and shattering it.

Her breathing was heavy as she glared at the scattered dirt. Her hand tightened around Judgment. Her finger twitched, eager to deliver her gun's namesake on other peggies and avenge this family.

She felt something wet on her gun hand. Looking down it was Boomer. He was still whining, but now more in concern for her. His wet tongue licked her again.

America calmed down, taking a deep breath. She bent down and pet the dog, making him bark in happiness.

"You're a good boy." She smiled and activated her radio. "Dutch, it's me. I'm sorry. Rae-Rae is . . . Rae-Rae and her family are dead. Everyone but their dog, Boomer."

"Fuck! Fucking—Fuckin' Seed family!" America stayed silent, letting Dutch have his moment to rant and grieve. It would be a good two minutes before the old prepper calmed down enough to talk. "Did ya get the bastards who did it?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you. Thanks for avenging them at least. I'm glad you rescued ol' Boomer though . . . that dog'll sniff out trouble and watch your back better then you can believe. He's a great tracker, hunter, and spotter. I remember he once defended Rae-Rae from a grizzly. Now that he's . . . orphaned . . . ya mind watching him?"

She looked down at the dog. He was just sitting and staring up at her curiously with his tongue hanging out.

"Be glad to, Dutch."

"Thanks . . . stay safe now."

She put down her radio and scratched the hound's head. As she did, she also looked at the three bodies. Gunfire grabbed her attention next. It was coming from the Packing Facility across the street. The peggies had set up an outpost there.

They'll help her work off the rage.

America entered the garage. Inside was a bunch of tools, a quad-bike and a compound bow resting on a workbench. Interestingly, the last two items were painted a bright green and yellow and had "Big Game Hunter" painted on them. She took the bow and grabbed an aluminum bat that was just leaning in a corner.

Boomer barked. America strapped a quiver full of arrows to her back and looked out into the direction of the packing plant.

"Let's go boy."

"Bark! Bark!"

It was barely even a walk to the plant. America was looking through her binoculars scoping out the place. It wasn't heavily defended. In fact, the cultists just seemed to be loading crates full of apples into trucks.

Peering through her binoculars she could see three cultists. One standing guard near the driveway, another guarding the trucks, and the last one on top of the roof. But she knew there were more then what she could see and if she wasn't careful they could call in more on the radio they had set up.

She put down her binoculars. "How do I figure out how many are left?"

"Bark! Bark! Bark!"

"Shh. Yeah Boomer, three. But I need to know the total."

Without warning Boomer ran off into the complex.

"Boomer! No! Come back!" She yelled in a hushed tone.

But Boomer didn't listen and casually entered the outpost. Amazingly, the cultists didn't mind him. With his scruffy grey coat and rope collar, they must have thought he was a stray. Boomer approached a cultist, a shirtless tattooed man, who wore a crown of thorns and white flowers on his head.

Boomer barked at him once, before leaving him alone to bark again at the closest cultist.

'Wait.' America realized. 'Is he . . .'

Boomer barked at a cultist again. Then again. And again. Every cultist he came across he barked only once.

'Boomer's letting me know how many enemies are in the area through his barks. That's incredible!'

She knew police dogs that weren't that smart. When Boomer had returned he had barked a total of seven times. Seven enemies. And she guessed their positions based on how far Boomer was when he barked.

"Still quite a bit, but doable. Now how to go about it? Hmm, if only I could get a better look." She turned her head and saw a water tower she could climb. "That'll do."

After shimmying her way up the water tower, she got a better look at the terrain and the men in the area.

"First things first." She pulled an arrow on the string of her new bow. Aiming it at the cultist who was sitting relaxingly on the roof. The arrow was loosened and found its mark in the cultist's chest.

Pulling out her binoculars, America saw that they weren't only packing up apples.

A massive bear pounded on its cage in a ferocious fury. Its cage rattled from its immense strength but held firm. Another roar, but this time from a second caged bear. And then another.

Three bears roared and snapped at anything in sight, but their anger intensified seeing something living like one of the peggies. America quirked an eyebrow when she saw the look of these bears.

Their fur was an unnatural, sickly white. Their noses and eyes were pinkish, like they were sick, but they had enough energy in them to exude rage.

"Albinos?" She wondered. "No. One maybe, but three? Did the cultists do something to those things?" She looked back through her binoculars. "Hmm, the locks on those things look flimsy. One good shot and maybe those beasts can do my job for me. Course, if they win, then I have to kill them."

After giving it some thought she shrugged. "Fuck it." She pulled on her bowstring and released the arrow. The locks broke off, releasing the bear inside.

It charged out of its cage like a bear out of hell and started tearing into the cultists. The area was now on high alert.

"One down." She released another arrow. "Two down." The second bear was released. "One to go."

A third arrow later and three bears were destroying the cultists. America was actually surprised how resilient the animals were. Bullets were piercing their bodies, but they still charged like they felt nothing. She saw a cultist get ripped to shreds by a bear's teeth. A woman got her head crunched in a set of jaws. A man's chest cavity torn open by claws. Gunshots and screams were all over the place. One bear finally fell, but not before crushing to death a cultist it was chewing on.

There was a loud, resounding boom suddenly. America followed the noise and saw the weird shirtless cultist with the thorn-crown holding a unique looking double-barrel shotgun.

A bear charged the tattooed man, but he turned his gun and fired. The bear fell dead, its corpse skidding across the dirt. The remaining cultists cheered.

The odds were turning to the cultists favor, surprisingly. There was only one bear left and no doubt it would fall like the others. The tattooed man went off to get the last bear, leaving the two others behind.

America pointed at one of the cultists with her bow and then whistled. Boomer charged right in fearlessly. She let loose an arrow and struck the neck of the farthest cultist. He dropped spooking the second and causing him to reel, but before he could spot America, Boomer pounced on him and snapped his teeth around the cultist's neck. The last thing out of the man's mouth was a dying gasp.

"Good boy Boomer!" America praised, coming down the water tower.

A gun went off and bullets sparked off the water tower, spooking America and making her fall to the ground.

She groaned in pain from the landing but shook it off quickly when she realized that the tattooed cultist spotted her. But before she could get away the last weird bear charged at her, roaring.

America tried getting to her feet, but the bear was on her before she could get her footing. It roared in her face, she kicked it and punched its snout, but it was too hardy. She grabbed an arrow that fell out of her quiver and stabbed the beast in the eye before it could bite her neck.

It roared in pain, but amazingly did not die. She twisted the arrow, hoping the pain would get it to back off. It did, but the bear just seemed more determined to get her after. Before she could unholster Judgement from her hip, Boomer lept on top of the animal. Biting it and distracting it.

Boomer growled as he ripped a chunk of hair and flesh off the bear's back. The bear roared in pain and shook furiously trying to get the hound off. Boomer moved around the animal like water, biting its arms and back legs, and neck. But he would not be quick enough as the pale beast grabbed Boomer in its jaws and tossed the hound into the field. America could hear the poor dogs high-pitched squeal.

The bear, finally rid of the mutt, started to approach America again. Angered that the animal hurt her new companion, America was about ready to blow its arrow filled brains out with Judgement.

*BOOM!*

And that's what happened. Half its head exploded in a burst of blood, meat and bone. But it did not come from America's gun.

She turned her head and saw the tattooed cultist, reloading shotgun.

"Hello, Deputy." He said coolly. His gun snapped back into place after loading two shells in it. "The Father's been looking for you."

America finally managed to pull out Judgement and fired. Three shots. Each impacted the cultist, causing him to stumble back, but to the Deputy's surprise, he did not die.

He stood as straight as a pole, with three holes bleeding from his torso. America's brain could not process what she was seeing. Thankfully her instincts saved her by rolling away from the blasts of the cultist's weapon.

"You can't run forever, girl! The Father will have you among his flock." The cultists said, reloading his gun again.

"Over my dead body!" She managed to take cover behind some apple crates as the man reloaded. Turning the corner, she fired her pistol again, but the man dodged them and got behind crates of apples.

"The father just wants to save your soul! Like everyone else." He fired twice again, this time splintering the box she was hiding behind and splattering the apples into juice.

"He's got a funny way of "saving" people!" she fired back. Her shots just grazed the man's head.

"The ends justify the means. When the Collapse arrives, all will thank the Father for his actions."

"Somehow, I doubt it." She spat. The man didn't fire back again. She peered from her hiding spot and didn't see him.

Then all of a sudden, he came from around the other side and flanked her. He knocked Judgement from her hand and then hit her in the head with the butt of his gun.

America fell, clutching her head in a daze. She back tracked trying to get away, but she was caught when he leveled his gun on her.

"You will accept the Father, God's Chosen Prophet. It is His will."

America spat on the man's face. "The Father is no chosen of God's. He's a fraud and you're his mindless sheep."

*BOOM!*

His round impacted the ground between her legs, causing the girl to go deathly silent.

"One more blasphemous word out of you and I'll—ARGH!"

"Boomer!"

The grey-haired dog lept at the cultist's gun. Growling as he yanked the weapon from the man's clutches. The hound then tossed it to America's side.

"No!" The man tried to lunge for his gun, but Boomer bit his ankle holding him in place.

America took the black double-barrel, pointed it at the man's head, and blew it to hell.

America fell back onto the green grass and tried to catch her breath. "Thank God." She sighed in relief.

Boomer approached her face, giving her that cute look that all dogs are known for. He whined a little, apparently worried about her health. She scratched him on the head to show she was fine.

"Good boy."

After picking herself up, the deputy found a key on the crazy cultist's body. She explored the place and heard many voices screaming in the back-room office.

"Is everyone alright in there?" The Deputy asked through the locked door.

"Who's out there?!" A man shouted.

"My named Deputy Jones, I'm from the sheriff's department."

"You the one that's been makin' all that racket?"

"That's right. I took care of all the cultists."

"All of them?!"

"Yeah. Where's the key to this door?"

"Jimmy's got it! That tattooed fuck that you probably killed."

"Oh!" She perked. She took the key she got from the one called Jimmy and unlocked the door. "Open sesame." She smiled as she saw the group of people on the other side.

An older couple in their forties stepped out first. They were holding each other like a scared couple would.

"Thank God, you are a deputy." The wife said relieved.

"Names Doug Gardner. This here's my wife, Debbie. And these are the workers at Gardenview. What's left at least."

"Deputy Jones." She nodded.

"Hey! You got the "Farmhand" from Jimmy too. That's great!" Doug referred to the unique double-barrel in her hands. The weapon was silver and black, with a gold trim and the seal of Hope County on it, which was the image of a peaking mountain.

America looked at the weapon. She offered the weapon back, but the Gardner's refused it.

"You hold onto it. That thing can stop a charging buffalo with one shot. Lord knows these peggies need to be put down like the mad dogs they are."

Boomer whined from that analogy, gathering the attention of everyone around.

"Boomer?" Debbie said happily. "It's so good to see you boy! I'm surprised Rae-Rae would let you out of her sight."

America frowned. And though Boomer was being pat on the head, the reminder of his old master caused him to whine sadly.

"Rae-Rae and her family are dead. Cult killed them a while ago. I'm sorry." America explained.

Everyone gasped. Some cursed, some cried, and some punched the nearest object

"No." Debbie sobbed into her husband's shoulder, who tried comforting her to the best of his abilities.

"Did you at least get the bastards who did it?" Doug asked.

"Yes."

"Good. Good."

Everyone got to work on cleaning up the place and fortifying it against the cult. They took back all the supplies, set fire to Eden's Gate property, and piled up the corpses of the cultists to burn. No one thought they deserved a proper burial and no one wanted to just leave them out in the sun to rot and stink.

Doug and Debbie saw to everything. While everyone was cleaning up, America was crouched down examining the body of the one called Jimmy.

Five-foot-ten, black greying hair, temple was scarred up from the crown of thorns. Multiple tattoos on his body, most ranging from symbolic and biblical. Three bullet holes in his chest and one giant crater in his face. The man should have died from the first three bullets.

"Hey Doug!" She called over. "What can you tell me about this guy?"

"That's Jimmy Ward." Doug Gardner said coming up behind her. "He used to work for us, but little did we know he was a spy actin' for the cult." He spat on the corpse. "Soon as the peggies got angsty, he offered up this place to John and the Father. Took the "Farmhand" and converted anyone who was too scared to refuse. The rest—us—he locked up for later conversion. Can't thank you enough for that, Deputy."

"He took three shots to the chest and shrugged it off . . ."

"What do you expect from VIPs?" She leveled him a confused look. "VIPs are important individuals that bring the most to the cult. Talent, skills, goods, wealth, if the cult can use it and you can supply a surplus of it you are a "Very Important Person." You know who these fuckers are based off the thorn crowns they wear."

"That still doesn't explain how he shrugged off bullets and excruciating pain."

"Same way that happened to those poor bears." Doug shrugged.

America looked up at the bodies of the three bears. She had never seen anything of their like in all her years and she lived growing up near wild animals like these bears. What amazed her was the fact they were black bears and somehow their coats had turned completely white.

She had deduced that they were somehow connected to Jimmy. Their invulnerability to pain was eerily similar and they shrugged off bullets like they were walking Kevlar.

"These were just your typical black bears, before the cult experimented on them. Drugged them up until they were meaner and tougher than regular bears. And it's all because of that Bliss."

"Bliss?"

"You've seen the crates the cult's been lugging around. That's bliss. A drug that's manufactured by Faith Seed and used to control their followers. Too much of that stuff can make you brain dead or tough as nails like Jimmy there. That's not all."

He motioned for her to follow. He led her several yards away from the packing facility to a red silo with the cult's symbol on it.

"The cult's been buying a lot of farm land for years and producing this bliss infused fertilizer. John's set up a whole bunch of these silos all over Holland Valley."

"What's the point of adding bliss to the fertilizer?"

"No idea. Maybe it makes their bliss plants grow better or maybe it can infect other plants with its hypnotizing properties. Or maybe the cult just likes fucking with other people's shit."

"Literally."

They both got a laugh out of that.

"Well, whatever it's used for," America said, "it's important to them and that's enough reason for me to destroy it." Out of her pocket she pulled out a stick of dynamite.

Doug smiled. "I like the way you think, Deputy."

They lit the wick, dropped the stick and ran for cover. The combined explosion of the TNT and the silo contents was enough to shake the earth beneath their feet and even make their ears ring. But both agreed that it was a fine sight to see something of John Seed's go.

As the two walked back they discussed a very important topic that involved them all.

"You're heading to liberate Fall's End?"

"That's right." She confirmed. "I could use you and your crew's help on that matter."

"Listen Deputy, we'd love to help ya, but a lot of these people aren't fighters. The majority of my workforce that put up a fight was either taken or already joined up with the cult." He spat on the dirt for those traitors.

"I know and wouldn't be askin' if I could do it myself. But in times like these we have to rely on each other."

Doug took off his cap and scratched his head. "I'll tell you what, you get a few more fighters to join us and I'll convince these people to take up arms with ya. Right now, it's do or die and these people can definitely do."

"More people? I'm sure there are plenty that need help around the county, but where do I start?"

"Funny you should ask. Over yonder, bout a mile, is the Silver Lake Trailer Park. There you'll find a man by the name of Merle Briggs. He's been fighting the cult since they first showed up. No doubt the bastard's rubbing it in everyone's faces how right he was." He mumbled that last bit. "Anyway, I overheard the cult saying that they sent a contingent of men to apprehend Briggs and the other trailer park residences. You help them and I'm sure they'll help you. And then you'll have yourself a ragtag army."

America gave it some thought before nodding. "Okay. I can do that." She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. Boomer immediately sprinted to her side. "You get your people ready Doug. I'll get Briggs and the others."

"Godspeed, Deputy."

After collecting some ammo, it was a trek from the plant to the trailer park. She cut through the woods avoiding any peggies on the road.

"Ya'know I used to take my boy apple picking at Gardenview every fall when he was little . . ." Dutch said nostalgically. "Lot of good memories there for me—for everyone. Thanks for getting something of ours back, Deputy. We owe you one this time."

"I'm just doing my job, Dutch."

"You're way to modest, Dep. I was a soldier once, Army, 82nd Airborne, I know what it means to do your duty. But you're a Jr. deputy, a cop. Round these parts the only things you have to worry about are speeders and drunks. You're going beyond the call of duty, takin' on the cult, building a resistance, fighting a war . . . Jesus, Deputy." There was a pause from the old man, then a long sigh. "Forget it. Just accept my fucking compliment."

". . . thanks . . ." America didn't know why, but she smiled.

After about a half an hour walk she and Boomer finally arrived at the trailer park.

The peggies had already taken over it. They had rounded up the remaining residences of the trailer park and were getting them ready to transport. Looking through her binoculars, America could instantly tell which one was Merle. The tubby guy, wearing a mullet, shooting his mouth off.

"They won't bring the army here. I am the army! OOF!" A peggie socked him in the gut to shut him up.

"Who wears a mullet in this day and age?" She muttered.

From the looks of all the bodies lying around a recent battle had taken place, with more casualties on the peggies side. Looks like the trailer owners gave the cult quite a fight, which meant that all of them would be valuable in the fight for Fall's End. Even if they weren't it was still her duty to protect the innocent.

"Alright." She said getting ready. She reached into her bag for a certain item. A cylindrical container with a pin on top. "Let's hope this works."

She tossed the can-like object. It clanked against the ground, garnering the attention of the cultists. Before they could process what landed by their feet, it burst, blinding everyone and engulfing them in white smoke.

There was coughing now. Lots of coughing. The smoke grenade had caught them all off guard. Their ears were ringing from the non-lethal explosion and their mouths and eyes stung from the smoke. Suddenly, one of the cultists were taken out by a baseball bat. Dead upon impact. Boomer had lept onto a cultist, tearing out their throat. America swung left and right, cracking two skulls. One cultist was getting her bearings, but America threw her melee weapon at their head, disorienting her. As the smoke cleared, the deputy took out her revolver and fired on the last three cultists while Boomer killed the final one.

Scanning, there were no more enemies in sight and Boomer wasn't growling, which meant all was clear. She looked down and saw the hostages, groaning and moaning from being caught in the blast. Merle though was cussing up a storm. It was a risky move, and no doubt she'd get a complaint or two, but it was her best approach given what she had to work with.

America untied them all. Each gave her their own form of gratitude, before embracing their loved ones or neighbors. As soon as Merle was loose, he went to spit and kick every Peggie corpse in his sight.

"Finally! Someone I can depend on. Hello, Deputy."

"You know me?"

"Dutch called ahead and informed me you'd be coming soon. Told me all about your plan for a resistance and liberatin' Fall's End."

He gave another kick to a corpse. "I regret the day I eased up on these sons of bitches. I fuckin' knew this would happen!"

"We know Merle!" Everyone around them yelled at once.

"Well I did, and hardly any of you listened!"

"Well all of Hope County's listening now, Merle." America said. "And right now, we have people to protect."

"Couldn't agree more, Deputy. Before you showed up, we were kickin' ass and taking names. Everyone here's ready to step up and help their fellow man."

"Hmmhmm!" An old lady with a shotgun grunted.

"And fellow woman, whatever." He motioned for America to follow him. As they walked through the trailer park, America saw just how armed everyone was. She saw them carrying weapons ranging from baseball bats, to assault rifles, to one guy coming out of his shed with a fucking flamethrower.

"You guys sure were prepared for a war."

"You bet your fine ass we are! I wasn't the only one in Hope County that was expecting trouble from the cult to come to a head and the cult's gonna be real sorry they fucked with us."

"What am I looking at fighters wise?"

"Everyone here can use the basic pistol, rifle, and shotgun. Kathy's our regular sniper. Phil and Lenny've gotten us some explosives. Grenades, dynamite, pipe-bombs and C4. They even got us some rocket launchers." He whispered that last bit. "And uh, Georgie's rigged up his plane down by the docks with guns, cluster bombs and rockets."

"You've armed a civilian plane?" She said shocked.

"Oh, don't give me that look. The peggies got their air support and we need our own. Nick Rye was the first to do so and Georgie just copied him. The Clusterduck is one badass plane!"

"The Clusterduck?" She couldn't hold back the chuckle.

"I think it's a great name. But nothing will ever beat my baby in names." They came up to a makeshift wooden garage. Inside was a vehicle with a tarp covering it. Every residence in the trailer park joined them, surrounding the vehicle.

"I give you, Deputy, the one thing that the cult is just begging for." He gripped the tarp and yanked it off. "I give you: the Death Wish."

America's eyes sparkled in excitement. It was a truck, heavy duty, and armed with an M-60 on the back. It had a green and black paintjob, with flames on the hood, and a dreadful skull sitting in front of the moon, surrounded by wisps of fog on the side.

"That is goddamn beautiful, Briggs." America complimented.

"Ain't she now."

The two turned around and saw the remaining trailer park residences around them. Armed and ready for payback.

America and Merle stood in front of the Death Wish and addressed the crowd.

"Okay everyone, listen up!" Briggs started. "The fucking cult's gone and done the one thing it shouldn't have: piss us off!"

"Yeah!"

"The cult thinks the people of Hope County are just gonna roll over and take their shit? Well, they're wrong. We're Montanans! We're the toughest people in this whole country and we don't take shit from nobody!"

America stepped forward. "Fall's End is in trouble. It's people and its leaders, Mary May Fairgrave and Pastor Jerome Jeffries, are on the brink and only we can save them. It's time to rally and come together!"

"What do you say folks? You ready to take the fight to the cult?"

The crowd cheered in approval. Merle and Deputy Jones began setting up plans for the assault and rescue of Falls' End.


	4. Rise of Fall's End

Fall's End. A little town in the middle of nowhere. Complete with a bar, general store, garage, and a church. With some houses sprinkled here and there. It wasn't very impressive, but it was homey looking. At least, it would be if it weren't for the fucking cult.

America slowly crept up a hill and spied on the not-so-sleepy town through her binoculars. It was a mess. Eden's Gate had completely ransacked the place. People were being dragged out of their homes by gunpoint. The bar was being doused in gasoline, the garage and store were being raided, and the church was being desecrated.

Just one of those things was enough to make her blood boil, but all of it together?

The peggies set up a number of defenses. Some turrets on the buildings, roadblocks, vehicle patrols. And then a plane flew over her head. That could be troublesome.

Behind her, the Gardenview crew as well as the Trailer Park residences followed. Armed and ready to get revenge on the cult.

"So, what's the plan, Deputy?" One of the fighters asked.

"I sent Boomer ahead. He'll alert us to how many cultists are around. If he barks once, that's a single cultist. If he barks twice, that means one hostage. And that's the goal. We secure the hostages first, namely Mary May Fairgrave and Jerome Jeffries. Dutch said they're the more important targets. But make no mistake, we're here to save everybody."

"Understood. How do we do this?"

"You," She pointed to a woman holding a AR-LC, "Kathy, take your sniper rifle and climb that water tower. You'll get a better view from up there."

"On it." She left to do what she was told.

"You guys," She pointed to three men armed with rifles and a shotgun. "I'm securing Jeffries and Fairgrave. Get ready to go in loud and proud when they're secured."

"Got it, Deputy."

"No doubt the cult will send in reinforcements. Merle and the others will be on standby when that happens." Boomer's howl echoed out, signaling that hos scouting was finished. "Alright," she said pulling out Judgement, "From the looks of it, they're still trying to coax Jeffries out of the church."

"Then let's go save them."

 **The Pastor**

Jerome remembered the day he first met Joseph Seed. He was drifter with nothing but the clothes on his back and a busted old pickup truck. He came to the church seeking refuge. Seeking to learn. Of course, he said yes, but had he known what that God-seeking man would become . . . what he would do . . .

There were days that the Pastor truly regretted playing a part in Joseph's rise.

"YOU WILL ALL BE BLESSED BY THE LIGHT OF THE FATHER . . . OR BE BURNED BY IT!"

Outside, Pastor Jerome could hear to preaching bullshit of one of John Seed's "Ushers." Individuals in charge of "reaping" people and supplies. Fall's End had . . . well, fallen.

The little town held out all night, with himself and the bartender, Mary May, leading them. But there were too many peggies. All they had to run on were fumes.

"Despite all my training, I couldn't even save this one beautiful, town." The Pastor lamented.

He looked at what was left of the Resistance. The ones that got away before being reaped were in this church and the Spread Eagle bar. Though from the sound of it they got the sole living Fairgrave.

The remaining people helped him barricade the doors and windows of the church. The rest were hiding in the cellar. The elderly and children mainly, most of the people who could fight were above ground helping him fend off the cult, but unlike Jerome they weren't soldiers.

"Why is this happening?!" A woman sobbed in despair. "How many people died out there?"

"Fuckin' peggies. Fuckin' Joseph Seed and his psycho family!" A man seethed.

Others were pretty much the same. Crying, cursing, comforting . . . praying. Pastor Jerome performed the latter. It was all he really could do. The cult had been banging on their walls for two hours with no luck. They wanted all the people of Fall's End and they would do anything to get them. Even kill their own hostages that they were trying to "save."

Outside, the cult got tired of beating down doors and shooting up walls. So, they decided to sacrifice people, to make them come out willingly. They dragged people kicking and screaming before the Proclaimer and proceeded to beat their heads in with bats.

Many in the church called out, begging, screaming for them to stop, but the cult didn't listen.

"Their deaths are on your hands!" The Proclaimer had said. "They die needlessly for your pride, Pastor. Come out and it stops."

A few tried to surrender, but they were held back by the others. So many tears and blood were shed that it was drowning them all in despair. What could they do? If they kept fighting, more people were mercilessly killed. If they surrendered, they could still be killed or worse: a torturous future with John Seed. The situation was hopeless and getting darker by the minute.

Pastor Jerome stood by a barricaded window and watched another poor soul get beat over the head with a bat. He had to watch this. Those people were dying because of him. This was something he would have to carry forever.

The former marine held onto his bible and prayed. He prayed for the ones that had died, the ones that were still alive and fighting and he prayed to the Lord for a miracle.

"Lord, here my prayer. Give us strength and fortitude in this time of crisis. Guide those poor souls to heaven . . . and please shine a light through this darkness to give us a hope once more."

*BOOM!*

A gunshot went off. Everyone in the church ducked thinking the cult was shooting again, but they realized it wasn't the cultists. Outside, The Proclaimer fell off the car he was standing on, his bible was splattered with blood from the fresh hole in his head.

A sniper from the water tower took him out and the other cultists charged up the hill to take them out. But then three gunshots went off, killing two cultists. A lone gunwoman came from the road, a smoking silver six-shooter in hand.

The cultists realized they were flanked and tried scattering. The sniper took out another one, while the woman fired her pistol again. Hers clicked, indicating she was out. One of the executioners ran at her with his bat. The woman whistled and out of the brush came the locally-famous dog, Boomer. The hound pounced on the cultist and ripped out his throat.

The woman then cut the remaining hostages free and gave them the cult's guns. Just in time as the rest of the cult in town started to converge on them.

"Who is that?"

"She saved them!"

"She was like goddamn Clint Eastwood out there."

The sight of the woman's triumph lifted the remaining resistance member's spirits. It was like a switch went off. A moment ago, they felt caged and hopeless, but now they were rejuvenated and ready to fight again. Jerome grabbed his shotgun and gave it a pump. The others went and grabbed their guns.

"This is our chance folks!" Jerome rallied. "God's given us a second chance to fight against Eden's Gate." He marched through the hall passing by his fellow Fall's Enders.

"Wo to the man who leads my flock astray. For if I am not their shepherd, then I must be the wolf!"

He kicked open the door and blasted the first ratty-haired peggie he saw. The battle cries of the people behind him resounded like a wolf's howl.

 **The Bartender**

Mary May struggled against her binds. Her glaring eyes settled on the VIP in front of her, who was giving her the usual spiel that most Ushers gave to their captured.

"Greg, I swear to God . . ." she seethed.

He slapped her. "Do not use the Lord's name in vain, Mary. It is Joseph you should swear to."

"FUCK JOSEPH!"

This time, the tattooed man struck her temple with the butt of "Fall's Ghost." The antique lever-action rifle used to sit peacefully in the mayor's office of the town hall, until Greg Bakshki, the assistant mayor, took it along with everything else in Fall's End.

"You're lucky John has such a fixation on saving you. Otherwise I'd blow your head off for such blasphemy, sinner."

"Just kill me now." She spat. "I'd rather die then be put in the hands of that psycho."

"No can do, Mary." Greg shook his head. "You have sins that need to be absolved. Especially after **that night**."

Her eyes widened in shock and it took all her strength not to break down in tears in front of the cultists. So, she simply turned her sadness into fury and gave the most hate filled, death-inducing glare. She had wondered if Greg was there "that night." But it was dark and rainy and most of the cult had long scraggily beards that made it difficult to differentiate sometimes. Plus, she was preoccupied with her brother . . .

"Glare all you want girl, but this is for your own good. Get more gasoline from the garage! We need to burn down this place of sin. Burn it off the map!"

"No!" She was held back by another cultist. Some of her friends were still inside. Casey, Danny, Frida, Mike, and several others that were hiding.

The cult just wanted her. As far as anyone else in the tavern, they could burn along with her bar. That's how the cult was. They either took you or killed you. There was no rhyme or reason behind it. Like the flip of a goddamn coin.

"You bastards! There are people in there!" She screamed.

"We know, and they have refused the Word of the Father. So, they shall burn for their sins in this unholy hovel."

Before she could curse them even more, gunfire went off on the other side of town. Drawing their attention away.

"Trouble again." Greg sighed in annoyance. "When will these sinners realize that we are trying to help! You two come with me!"

Greg took a couple steps before Mary tripped him over with her legs. Greg fell flat on his face, disorienting him.

One of the cultists grabbed Mary by her hair and balled his fist.

"You bitch!"

He was about to strike her, but then the sound of a car distracted him. And then a baseball bat going thirty miles an hour struck him across the face. Three cars sped past them, with the Death Wish leading them. In those trucks were Hope County citizens armed with guns and blunt instruments. They all laughed and screamed manically as they drove into town, ready to bring the fight.

"K-kill them!" Stuttered Greg as he stood up.

The cultists fired their guns at the trucks. They were about to go after them, but then suddenly the Spread Eagle's front door burst open. A big man of hair and muscle charged out and with a kind of savage grace took on the cult with a gun and kitchen utensil in hand.

It was Casey Fixman, the bar's cook.

Before a cultist realized it, a butcher's knife cleaved through the top of his skull. The cook fired his gun. Two pops, each a headshot that downed a cultist. He dislodged the cleaver and swung it into a woman's shoulder. He used her as a human shield to absorb the cultist's bullets, before killing them with his own gun.

All that was left was Greg and some batters. He ducked underneath the bats and imbedded the cleaver into the cultist's stomach. He yanked it out in the most painful way. Mary nearly wretched from the squelching noise alone, she looked away when she caught a glimpse of the man's guts falling out.

The second batter roared as he went for the deadly man's head. He lost in an instant when he felt something cold create a gap in his neck. He stumbled forward before falling to the ground. Greg was alone now, and he just reloaded his gun. Casey threw the cleaver with excellent marksmanship, as the blade found its mark in between Greg's eyes.

The VIP fell backwards with a thud. Casey quickly ran to Mary's side and untied the ropes around her wrists.

"You okay, Mary?" Casey asked. His gruff voice was full of concern.

"I'm fine." She swallowed the bile in her throat. She knew about Casey's past as a special ops soldier, but she had no idea he was capable of doing . . . all of that.

Just as the cook freed his employer, the sound of scuffling drew their attention. Mary's eyes widened in shock as Casey's eyes narrowed into a hateful glare.

Standing up was Greg, who just pried the cleaver from his own skull. His thorn crown was split in two and fell onto the ground. There was a long indenture in his forehead now. Blood was flowing over his face as he breathed angrily. He let the knife in his hand clatter to the ground and raised the freshly loaded Fall's Ghost.

"Damn sinners." Greg snarled. "Don't'chu GET IT!? We are the righteous! Our purpose is righteous! We will not fall to the likes of you and your ilk. For we are destined to save these lost souls and cleanse them—so that they may walk to Eden's Gate, hand in hand, with the Father and his Family."

Somehow, the VIP's face transformed into somewhat of a blissful visage. "It will be paradise for us all." But such a face could not hide behind the murderous intent. "All except you."

Greg prepared to pull the trigger.

"Casey!" Mary tried to protect her friend, but the cook was stronger and pushed her back as he prepared to take the bullet for her.

But just before Greg could fire, a familiar dog lept at the gun and wrestled the surprised VIP for his weapon.

"Boomer?!" Mary gasped in surprise.

The dog paid the two no mind as he played tug-of-war with the cultist. The bird dog won out and ripped the weapon from the man's hands before scampering off into the war-zone.

"You damn dog!" Greg shouted after. "Give that back!"

Just before Greg could let out another curse again, Casey got up behind the cultist and put him in a strong headlock.

Greg let out choking noises and tried to pry the cooks arms off, but to no avail. Casey was bigger than Greg and lifted him off his feet, causing him to kick and flail.

"You picked the wrong side Gregy-boy." Casey spoke lowly. He tightened his hold until he heard a loud crack come from the man's neck. Once Greg went limp, Casey dropped him like a sack of potatoes.

Without skipping a beat, Casey nabbed a rifle from one of the cultists and gave it to Mary.

"Thanks." She checked to see if the weapon was loaded. When she looked back up at Casey her eyes widened. "Look out!"

She took aim with the rifle and fired. Two bodies fell from the rooftops. Snipers who were taking position for the battle.

"Nice shot. Thanks for the save." Casey said.

"Just returning the favor." Mary smiled.

An explosion, apparently caused by a plane dropping a bomb on a fuel truck, caused them to slightly duck. They looked up and saw an amphibious, red biplane fly over them.

"Is everyone in the bar safe?" Mary asked as she watched the plane turn around to make another pass.

"They are secured, ma'am." Casey answered. Sounding every bit the soldier he used to be. Still was in their current situation.

"Good." She took the rifle ammo off Greg's headless corpse and reloaded her weapon. "Then let's shoot these fuckers in the crotch."

 **The Deputy**

America watched as the Death Wish plowed through cultist and toppled over their vehicles like they were kiddie cars. On the back, Merle was laughing and screaming away, though it was hard to hear over the gunfire he was spewing from the mounted gun.

"Yeeeah you fuckers! Come get some! You want some? You want some? I'll give you a little—no—I'll give you a whole lot! Ha Ha Ha!"

The trucks that followed behind the Death Wish skidded to a stop. Out the back came more members of the Resistance, armed with rifles, shotguns, grenades, bats, pistols, and a whole lot of determination and revenge.

America fired Judgment taking out three cultists in four shots. She dove for cover behind a stone fence, bullets grazed the surface of the fence causing her to cover her head. Peaking around the corner she fired the last two rounds in her handgun before retreating back to reload.

She saw one of the peggies she downed being dragged into cover, hoping to heal him to get him back in the fight. It wouldn't be though because Pastor Jerome blew them both away with a single shot from his shotgun.

This got the peggies focused on killing the Pastor, but the other Resistance fighters that came out of the church would not let them. Waves of bullets zoomed by and through the peggies, making them drop dead or forcing them back. Kathy would snipe any peggies trying to bunker down behind cover, forcing them out of hiding. Their combined firepower took out many peggies, pushing them back into the town.

America reloaded her gun just in time for her faithful companion to come running up to her. With a nice-looking rifle in his mouth.

"Thanks, Boomer." She took the weapon happily and looked it over.

It was a fine weapon, like something from those old western movies she watched as a kid. And boy did the situation look like an old western movie.

Seeing if it was loaded, she nodded that it was and looked back at Boomer.

"Good job, boy. Now go see if anyone needs help."

Boomer barked before going off back into the fray.

She got up from her cover and aimed the rifle. She fired and pulled the lever and repeated. Each shot she fired was accurate and on point. Taking out one Peggie with one shot. She moved forward along with Pastor Jerome and a couple other fighters.

They took cover behind one of the destroyed trucks. Some of the cult fell back near a barricade set up around the fuel truck. They laid down some impressive fire power, but the Deputy had one better.

"Georgie, hit the fuel tanker." She said into her radio

"You got it, Dep."

The sound of a plane's engine roared in the sky. And through the blue sky flew a red plane called respectfully the "Clusterduck." It flew over their heads and over the cultists. It released a cluster bomb from its wing and impacted the truck.

The explosion was massive, and everyone could feel it, especially the cultists. It took all the peggies near it straight to hell. Not before their smoldering pieces go a glimpse of heaven from being launched a hundred feet in the air.

The Resistance pressed forward. Pastor Jerome was by her side, firing his shotgun. America let out a couple bursts from her new rifle. Enemies were dropping like flies now. It was almost unfair and that's just how she wanted it.

America shot a downed Peggie before one of their friends could revive them. Then shot the saving cultist in the same second. The Deputy got down behind cover again.

"I'm out of ammo!" One of the resistance members shouted.

That was when Boomer came with a cartridge of rifle rounds in his mouth. He left it near the fighter that needed it the most.

"Thanks Boomer!" They said appreciatively.

Boomer barked before bounding back out to get more supplies. The cult mostly ignored Boomer, as they were more concerned with the enemies that had guns. The grey dog would scout for ammo and weapons and bring them to Resistance fighters. Sometimes he would sneak around and take out a lone Peggie that was far from his fellow cultists.

What a good boy!

The peggies must have called in for backup because several trucks with mounted guns came speeding down the road. Before they could even reach where the main fight was, the Death Wish slammed into the middle one. Toppling it over and crushing its occupants. Merle then laid waste to the third truck behind with his gun. The front truck tried to cover and support the cultists, but one lobbed grenade from America totaled that plan.

So much for the reinforcements.

They moved further into town, pushing the cultists back until they were completely cornered. Mary May had joined the fight now. She rushed into the fight with a fury unlike anyone else's. She let out a raging yell along with a shit-ton of bullets. Any Peggie that got in her sights was dealt with swiftly and without mercy. If a Peggie was downed but not dead she would stomp their heads in or beat them to death with the butt of her rifle. America had never seen such a ferocity since . . . well, herself.

Casey, armed with his butcher's knife and gun, watched her back. He was like a killing machine! Swinging that knife like a professional and shooting peggies with masterful marksmanship.

The Clusterduck came overhead again and strafed several peggies that tried to get an advantage on the roofs. Combine that and the Death Wish's fire power on the ground, the town would be cleared out in no time.

America and two other resistance members took cover behind a truck. They'd pop out and fire their weapons. The Deputy had switched to her pistol again and let its namesake speak true. Every bullet she fired from the weapon found its mark, injuring or killing every cultist she locked on.

"Forward!" She ordered.

The Resistance fighters moved up. Shotguns went off, knocking peggies off their feet. Assault rifles fired at a distance, taking out any Peggie unfortunate enough to be in their sights.

A Peggie had pretended to be dead and tried taking America out from behind. But a long distance shot from Kathy's sniper rifle stopped him in his tracks. If she really focused, America could see the laser dot trembling over a cultist before a bullet struck them in the exact same spot.

The peggies realized they were losing and started loading up any hostages and supplies they could. If they couldn't win, then they'd take what they could and come back with more men. Mary May, Pastor Jerome, and America wouldn't let them however.

Advancing side by side, the three protectors went to finish off the fleeing cultists. Mary fired her rifle, each burst dropped a Peggie to the ground in seconds. America, like an old western hero, gripped Judgement in one and fired rapidly, any fleeing Peggie she saw was killed in an instant via headshot. Jerome pumped his shotgun with each blast. One, two, three, when his gun clicked empty, he grabbed the gun by the barrel and swung it like a baseball bat.

One van managed to speed off and escape. The Resistance couldn't fire in fear of hurting the hostages in the back. Just when it looked like it would get away, the Death Wish crashed into the driver's side. The driver was killed upon impact and the hostages were quickly released and saved, if not a bit disoriented from the crash.

"We're winning!" Mary said excitedly. "We're winning!"

"Hell yeah!" Merle cheered from his truck.

"God be praised, the cult's finished here in Fall's End." Jerome said.

What remained of the cult started running for the hills, back to John Seed. America, Mary, and Jerome, side by side, with all of Fall's End's survivors behind them, fired their guns. Shooting and making sure they take out as many of the peggies as they could. One less Peggie meant one less to fight.

The Clusterduck flew over them and fired a barrage of rockets at the fleeing peggies. All of Fall's End cheered like it was a Fourth of July celebration.

But their cheering stopped when they heard a second plane. At first no one noticed, but when the three leaders turned around they all stared in dread as a grey fighter-plane came at them.

"Shit! It's the Chosen!" Mary cursed.

"The Father's elite guard!" Jerome said fearfully.

Overhead, a grey fighter plane swooped down and released a twin stream of gunfire.

"Everyone, take cover!" America shouted.

Everyone screamed and ran as a hail of bullets rained on them. Many of the fighters managed to escape, but a few weren't quick enough as their bodies were torn to shreds.

The plane came back around and fired its guns and then released a bomb right on top of them. The explosion killed three people who were hiding behind a pair of trucks.

People were starting to panic as the number of dead bodies increased. Pastor Jerome tried his best to calm everyone down, but he couldn't stop the few that gave into their fears and ran. Those folks were killed by aerial gunfire.

"We got to take that thing down before it kills us all!" Jerome said over the screams of his people.

"I got this!" Georgie said over the radio.

"Georgie, be careful! These guys are trained for aerial fights." Mary warned.

The Clusterduck chased after the Eden's Gate plane. Georgie fired the main guns when his sights were locked on, but the second gunner of the enemy plane forced him to veer away, else he'd be taken down.

Georgie tried his best to keep up with the peggie plane, but the constant shooting caused him to lose sight of the plane for a while. Only to have it reappear behind him.

The plane shot at Georgie. The clanking and sparking of bullets caused Georgie to sweat, but he swallowed his nervousness and tried to shake the plane.

The Clusterduck serpentined. It dived and rose trying to escape the Chosen's sights.

"He can't get away." Jerome said worriedly.

"We got to help him!" Mary said urgently.

"On it!" Merle banged the roof of his truck. "Rapido amigo!" The Death Wish sped off, with Merle blasting away on the machine gun.

"I'll get on that mounted gun on the roof!" One of the fighters shouted as she raced to the rooftop of the general store.

"Everyone else," America said, "fire at will!"

Everyone raised their guns pointing at Heaven and did their best to take down the plane.

Rounds imbedded into the hull of the plane, sparking and making clanking noises. The Clusterduck managed to get around and behind the plane this time and so the peggies were put on the defensive.

Georgie fired his guns, getting several good shots, but he had to pull back when the enemy's co-pilot fired from the back gun.

The two planes danced around each other, playing a game of cat and mouse. Both took equal damage, even with the whole of Fall's End on Georgie's side.

Unfortunately, the Chosen's plane managed to get a direct hit on the Clusterduck and the red plane went down in smoke.

"I'm hit! I'm going down!"

"Georgie, get out of that thing!" Jerome practically screamed into the radio.

"I-I'm trying! My belt's stuck!"

The plane got closer and closer to the ground.

"Georgie! Get out of there!" America yelled.

"I-I can't! I can't get out! I can't—KKZZZZT!"

Static was all that was heard from the radio, the second the Clusterduck impacted the ground. The plane crashed into the fields, a mile from Fall's End. Everyone stared in shock and horror at the plume of smoke rising in the distance.

They couldn't focus on the demise of their friend however, as the Chosen unleashed a torrent of bullets on the hapless townsfolk.

It was utter bedlam now as the Chosen laid waste to the small town's occupants. It dropped a cluster bomb first, causing the fighters to scatter and find cover. America saw two people die in that explosion.

Merle banged on his vehicle. "Get us out of here!" He yelled.

The Chosen came back around, doing a perfect U-turn and fired at the water tower. Kathy and the other snipers were completely eviscerated in seconds and fell from the tower.

The one manning the machine gun atop the general store fired everything he had at the plane. But the gun jammed on him in his moment of desperation. His last words were a curse as the Peggie plane dropped a bomb on him, taking a chunk of the building and the machine gun, along with his life.

Everyone had taken cover in the buildings, just as the plane came back around and took out several more people with a twin stream of bullets.

Mary and Casey hid in the Spread Eagle, Jerome and his followers and America in the garage. The only one on the offensive, was Merle.

The Death Wish was moving like a bat out of hell. With Merle unleashing all the fury hell had to offer. The driver evaded the raining assault for the most part, but it would not escape forever, even with merle as the gunner.

Despite their best efforts, the Peggie plane swooped down like a harvinger of death and unleashed a barrage of bullets on the truck. The rounds penetrated the thick plating and bullet-proof glass, and the driver died from the first shot. Merle had avoided the attack by ducking behind his gun's harness.

The Death Wish swerved and crashed, tipping over onto its side and skidding across the road.

"Merle!" America shouted out in worry.

The redneck pulled himself out of the wreck, groaning and clutching his arm. America quickly rushed to him without hesitation.

"Deputy, come back!" Jerome called. "It's too dangerous."

But she ignored him and got to Merle's side. She hooked her hands under his arms and helped drag him to safety.

"Leave me, Deputy! I'm a dead man out here." Merle winced from the pain in his shoulder.

"I'm not letting another one of you die on my watch!"

The sound of the dreaded plane caused her to pause though. She looked up and in the distance, saw the Chosen coming right at her.

"Run! Get out of here, Deputy!" Merle screamed.

Once again, she ignored him. 'That plane's taken too many lives today. And I'll be damned if I let it take another one.' She thought.

Her eyes lowered to the M-60 that fell off the Death Wish when it crashed. With a bravery bordering on stupid, she raced for the big gun.

"Dep, NO!" merle tried to stop her, but was incapable of doing so.

America picked up the machine gun and aimed it at the closing in plane. She pulled the trigger and the gun flashed as it fired. The lawbringer felt every bullet leave the drum as she screamed bloody murder at the murderous cultist.

At the same time, the Peggie released its own firepower at the single target. Everyone watched in amazement as the junior deputy stood in between a storm of bullets as she released her own firepower upon the weapon of death.

America continued to let out a battle cry and ignored the painful stings of the powerful rounds scrapping against her skin.

Despite being so far away, the Chosen piloting the plane could feel the woman's intenseness and for a split second he had forgotten the Father's teachings and was overcome with fear. He faltered and three bullets struck him in the chest, neck and face.

America's battle cry ended when the gun finally ran dry of ammo. The plane itself also stopped shooting and seemed to be diving more and more with no sign of pulling up. It rushed over her head. She turned around to follow it, just in time to see it crash and skid against the road.

The plane, now grounded and on fire, left a trench in the concrete road that was over twenty yards long. It finally came to a stop and all was dead silent. That is until the co-pilot's spot opened up and someone was trying to crawl out of the wreck.

Glaring, America tossed aside the empty M-60 and unholstered her new lever action rifle. Without taking her eyes off the sole survivor, she marched toward him.

The last Peggie climbed out of the burning wreck. He removed his red ski mask, revealing an ugly face. A large nose, big brow, a tuff of dirty blonde hair to go along with his ugly mug. He was panting for breath. On the side of his head was a trail of blood. When he calmed down enough he looked at the pilot's seat to see his friend dead, riddled with bullets and burning along with the plane. Looking around him, he saw more of his fellow cultists, lying dead.

He heard foot steps and turned around in time to see America approach him with the Ghost in her hands and an unreadable expression on her face. But he didn't care about that.

The Peggie awkwardly tried reaching for his gun, but America's reaction was quicker. The single round went through the man's arm. Causing him to drop his gun and clutch the hole in pain.

"Fucking bitch! You fucking sinner bitch! You killed them! You killed all of them!" He sporadically motioned to the corpses around him. "The Father's children . . . my brothers and sisters. You fucking soulless sinn-KHAR!"

America shoved the rifle's barrel into the man's mouth.

"Shut the fuck up . . . sinner."

His eyes widened in fear and from her words. She pulled the trigger, launching the man back and splattering blood on the wrecked plane.

America took a long deep breath, like she was collecting herself. She closed her eyes and listened. There was no more shouting or gunfire. No more people trying to kill each other. For a moment it was peaceful. Peaceful. Peace, surrounded by crackling fires and its burning contents.

She looked to her left. Bodies: both Peggie and civilian alike. To her right. Destruction, with more bodies of peggies and civilians alike.

'A war.' She finally realized. 'I'm in a war.'

She was told that that's what she was participating in. But it didn't sink in until just now.

A part of her couldn't help but laugh bitterly. 'This is what my mama always told me about. What I tried to avoid. Fuck . . . how did she deal with the bodies.'

"So many dead." She said hollowly.

"Deputy . . ."

She turned around and saw Pastor Jerome and Mary May giving her looks of concern. Behind them . . . were the survivors. Men and women looked at her with awe. Relief sighed from their mouths as they finally had their home again. Hope filled their eyes . . . just from looking at her.

America released a breath that felt like she was holding for years. She swallowed her fears, her concerns, her sorrow. Whatever she felt didn't matter. All the dead bodies around her didn't matter. What mattered were the ones left alive. That's what she was responsible for.

It was her duty to protect these people and bring the ones accountable to justice.

America raised Fall's Ghost in the air and yelled triumphantly, "Fall's End is ours!"

Everyone cheered and yipped and danced. Mary hugged Casey, who gave her a one-armed hug back and a big old grin on his face. Merle bearhugged the nearest resistance member and laughed like the crazy loon he was, before yelling out in pain from his broken arm. Jerome looked to be on the brink of tears and many of his people came to place their hands on him in comfort.

America received all kinds of praise. From handshakes, to pats, to hugs, to teary thank yous, she had to refuse some kisses. Many just seemed so enamored by her. The liberation of their town was one of the greatest things to happen to them all in a long, long time. To many it was a miracle.

A miracle that she brought to them.

 **That Night**

The day had come to an end. Night came upon Hope County.

The rest of the day was spent cleaning up the debris and bodies. The peggies were burned or thrown into the wild to sate wandering bears and wolves. The Resistance that died in the fight were given quick burials and funerals.

It wasn't much, but it was the best they could do under their circumstances. Pastor Jerome promised to give proper funerals once the peggies were gone.

"If the peggies will be gone." A dower note left by one of the survivors.

'Despite all the deaths, many have hope again.' America thought.

There was new life being breathed into the people. The residents were smiling, laughing, and joking when they were setting up barriers around the perimeter. It was a coping mechanism for the civilians. For dealing with their situation. At least, that's what Pastor Jerome said.

The water tower was turned into a makeshift watchtower for snipers and lookouts. Mounted machine guns were set up on rooftops on every corner of the town, plus one or two inside the town.

The owners of the general store and garage took up shop again, now that the peggies were gone. For the time being. The store owner did what he could to supply the Resistance, but there was only so much he could spare without going bankrupt.

Jerome and Mary were completely understandable and made a deal for trading goods. But that would be discussed about on the morrow. Thankfully, they saved quite the amount of supplies from the peggies.

America walked passed the garage and overheard Merle arguing with the mechanic. Merle's arm was in a sling and one or two of his ribs might've been cracked, but that didn't stop the redneck from tearing into the mechanic about being careful with his "baby."

The Death Wish was really damaged. All the windows were cracked, with the windshield being completely destroyed. The good-looking paintjob was smeared and scraped. The gunner's spot was wrecked, and the engine wouldn't stop steaming. Merle wanted to take parts from the peggie's trucks, but the mechanic wanted to use them to better help the Resistance.

America yawned. She was exhausted from all the day's events and felt like she was running on fumes. She contemplated about going home, but with the peggies out there, it wasn't safe and no doubt the cult was skulking about her place.

A neon sign caught her attention and her eyes lingered on the silhouette-like image of a bikini-clad woman with American flag wings on her back. The sight of it made her smirk.

"Heh, the Spread Eagle." She said amusedly.

The first time she waltzed into the place she thought it was a strip joint. With such a name and a "pleasing-to-the-eye" sign, she was confused why everyone told her to go to the Spread Eagle. She was relieved, yet somewhat disappointed it wasn't a strip club. But the alcohol was good and the people even more so, if not a little rough around the edges. Montanan hospitality at its finest.

She met the famous Mis Mary May and found the woman good company and easy on the eyes. Though for her first visit, which was three days ago, it felt like there was a kind of downheartedness in the air. Like everyone was sad about something and that feeling just hung around. Because she was new to the county she didn't ask.

Now she knew.

She swung open the door and found Pastor Jerome pacing and reading from his bible. America assumed he was preparing another sermon.

"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death, or mourning, or crying, or pain."

The Pastor's voice was deep, and soothing to the ears. It was almost like Joseph's, but instead of a deep-seeded dread behind the words, it was actual love and care.

Feeling elated by the man's words, America finished the verse for him. "'For I know the plans that have made for you.' Declared the lord. "'Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future.'"

The Pastor spun around and smiled kindly seeing her.

"Revelation 21:4."

"You know your bible verses."

"Like I know the back of my hand, Pastor."

"Please, you can call me Jerome. My friends do." He approached and raised his open hand to her. She grasped his hand and squeezed it in a brother-in-arms like fashion.

"I'll keep that in mind, Jerome. But I call you Pastor out of respect. You've led these people and kept them going strong. We're lucky to have someone like you protecting us."

The Pastor smiled more. "It's you we're lucky to have. The peggies had us by the throat. We were in the darkness until you showed up. You were like a miracle that God sent himself."

That explained why some of the townsfolk followed her around like she was a life line. Despite herself she smiled a little at the compliment but shook her head.

"I'm just a junior deputy, Pastor, just doing my job. I'm no miracle. Far from it."

A real miracle would've saved everyone.

Jerome stared directly into her eyes. "I don't claim to know God's plan, but I know a good thing when I see one." It felt like he was staring into her soul. "You're getting quite a reputation, Deputy Jones. You're the first good thing to happen in this valley in a long, long time."

"A little help."

Coming down the stairs was the bar owner herself, Mary May. In her arms, blocking her view were three crates. Definitely more then she could handle. Both the Pastor and Deputy went to help her.

"Are you trying to break your neck?" Jerome lightly scolded.

"Seemed like a good idea at the time." She grunted.

Jerome relieved one box from Mary and America quickly took the second. As soon as the blonde had her sight back, she gave the Deputy a pleasant smile.

"Well shit, it's you. Sorry didn't realize." She said winded.

The three walked to the counter and set the boxes of, apparently, alcohol on them.

"All you've done, might as well add mover to the list."

"Should I put that next to deputy, crackshot, or savior?" America joked.

Mary smirked. "Shit, put it next to modesty."

"I thought Eden's Gate confiscated all of this?" Jerome asked as he picked up a bottle of hard liquor from the crate.

"Now what kind of Fairgrave would I be if I didn't have a hidden stash?"

On one of the boxes was a picture of a young Mary with an older gentleman. Spectacled, farmers tan, and rugged. Mary picked up the frame and looked at it forlornly.

"Learned from the best . . ."

Jerome looked over her shoulder and sighed at the picture. "This town . . . it's been through a lot. We owe you thanks, but—"

"I know you're looking for your people." Mary interrupted bringing them two mugs. "But the truth is, you ain't the only one in need of help right now. Pastor and I have been doing our best, but we can only do so much." She poured them some whisky.

"If you can see about lending a hand, we'll be sure to return the favor."

America raised her cup. "It's my job to help the people. You needn't ask. We're going to save as many as we can."

The other two raised their mugs and all three then downed the drinks.

"Mary'll get you squared away. When you get the chance, come by the church. I'll be there." Jerome said and left the bar.

"You know a place I can rest for the night, Mis Fairgrave?" America asked.

"You don't need to be all formal now, Deputy. Call me Mary May, like all my friends."

"I'll keep that in mind Mis Mary May."

"Heh, smartass. If you need some place to sleep for the night I got a guest room upstairs that's all yours. It's the first door on your right."

"I appreciate it Mis Mary."

"Just get up there and try learning to say my name without the "mis" part."

America chuckled. "I'll try."

"Good night, Deputy."

She walked up the stairs but stopped halfway before turning around. "America. You can call me America, Mary. Good night."

Without waiting for a response from the bartender the rookie cop headed up the stairs. She found the guest room and let out a relieving breath seeing a nice plush bed.

The Deputy removed her clothes, untied her hair, and took off her boots. In nothing more then her underwear she stared up at the ceiling fan. Spinning, spinning, spinning.

She felt like that was her life now. Spinning, spinning, spinning, with no end in sight. Out of her control.

She turned off the light and closed her eyes. Now that she had a truly quiet moment, all the day's events flashed through her eyes. All the destruction she caused, all the death she brought, but most of all she saw all the nightmarish things that the cult had done in just one day.

One day, so many dead, so many lives destroyed.

One day.

"How long can this possibly go on?"

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Just so everyone knows: I made Fall's End a little bigegr in the game to make the fight more interesting. Even putting the Town Hall there too. I apologize for the aerial battle. It wasn't very good and I've never written one before. If anyone has any advice for writing aerial battles I'm all ears.**


	5. Building a Resistance

America crouched down behind some brush. The grass barely made a sound beneath her feat. She paid attention to the wind and felt that it was blowing against her face. Good.

She raised up her bow and ever so silently pulled back on the string. It made a slight noise from the tension but did not alert the target.

A great buck stood on top of the hill, grazing, in front of the horizon. One of the best specimens she'd ever seen. Its fur was black, its legs muscular, and its rack was perfectly shaped and healthy. Wall-trophy material.

She aimed and took her time. Her fingers and arm ached from the strain of the bow, but she needed to make this shot perfect. Inhaling, her arm finally settled and release.

The arrow soared and struck the buck in the torso. It fell back with a piercing whine and America rushed to check on her kill.

The sight of it was lost when she ran up the hill, but no doubt it would be there when she got to the top. But when she did make it over the hill . . . she found no buck. But she did find the arrow . . . lodged in the brain of a cultist.

She gasped and backed away, only to halt when a bloody hand grabbed her leg. A cultist with blood leaking from a hole in his head like a faucet.

"Murdereeerrr . . ." He wheezed.

America recognized him as Ralph, the cult lieutenant from Dutch's Island.

The deputy screamed as she pulled out her pistol and shot him in the head for the second time. His head exploded like a melon-no-a grenade. Nothing but red blinded her.

She rubbed the liquid-life from her eyes, feeling unclean in more then the regular sense. When she finally regained sight, there was not a speck of blood on her and she was in new surroundings.

Fall's End. "How did I—" She spun around and found the little town set ablaze. Uncontrollable fires everywhere, turning the town to ash in the slowest, most painful way possible. Black smoke rose to the sky, blocking out the sun and choking the life out of nature.

And if that wasn't enough, what the ashes of the town fell upon were the remains of the people of Fall's End. Dead, maimed, and desecrated. Their bodies left to rot and to wither away. America tried to scream in horror, but for some reason she couldn't.

She looked up and the next sight made her even sicker. There, before her very eyes, were Mary May, Pastor Jerome, and Sherriff Whitehorse—CRUCIFIED—nailed to crosses. Bleeding, as lifeless as one would expect from such a torturous event.

America fell to her knees. Tears streamed down her face as she cried for all the innocent lives lost. She failed. Her failure. She couldn't protect them. Couldn't save them. Couldn't fight for them.

Failure.

Failure!

FAILURE!

Why couldn't she SCREAM?!

Behind the crucified innocents, behind the wall of smoke and ash, came out four individuals riding on horseback.

One rode on a red horse. Grizzled and muscular, with hair of the same color as his horse. On his back was a longbow and claymore, weapons that would devastate all who would oppose him. At his sides were predatorial beasts and chained slaves. Animals and people that he subjugated through blood and violence. War.

The second rode a black horse, majestic looking, but sinister, both the rider and horse looked. In his hands was a golden scale. He raised it as if to judge her. Behind him were spoils of war, taken from the hands of the people. Food, valuables, and children. He starved them of mind, body and soul. Famine.

The third was a she-rider and rode a pale horse. Both rider and the horse were like wraiths, skinny and sickly looking. Decrepit and diseased would be the best way to describe the rider, as she looked like a rotting corpse, dressed, mockingly so, in beautiful white Sunday dress. Around them was a green fog that seemed to sap the life from all around them, giving them strength, only to lose it in mere seconds to sickness. But it never killed. They left just enough life to make the living suffer. Pestilence.

The final rider rode a white horse. Out of all the riders he stayed the farthest back but left the most impact. Because behind him was a wake of bodies that stretched as far as the eye could see. He was the beginning and the end to things. He watched the horsemen do their work, while he reaped the benefits. Atop his head, above all his shroud of shadows, was a golden victors crown. As if to say to all that HE was the true king of them all. Their conqueror. Death.

Death raised his finger and pointed at her. In a deep, raspy voice, he said one word that shook her to her core.

"YOU . . ."

He pulled down his hood and revealed his face.

America shot out of her bed with a scream on her lips.

She panted raggedly as the image of the four horsemen were burned into her mind despite it being just a dream. Why did people always remember the nightmares and never the pleasant dreams?

Suddenly, Boomer invaded her vision. She felt a wet tongue sliding across her face, immediately waking her up and giving an annoyed look at the mutt.

One look from his cute puppy face though and she couldn't hold that annoyance for long. Boomer whined at her in concern.

"I'm okay Boomer." She pats his head. "Just a nightmare."

There was a sudden knock on her door and from outside was Mary's voice.

"Deputy, are you okay?" Mary asked urgently.

America swallowed, trying to wet her dry throat. "Yeah. Come in."

Her door opened and in walked the beautiful barkeep. She smiled, which brightened America's mood and wiping away some of the stress from her nightmare. In her arms were some fresh clothes.

"I heard you scream." The barkeep was uncertain whether to pry or not.

"Just nightmares. That's all." America assured.

Mary nodded solemnly. "Yeah. I know what that's like. If you ever need to talk . . . I'm here."

America didn't say anything, but she did give a genuine smile and nod back.

"These are some of my old clothes that I don't wear anymore. I figured you'd like a new change of clothes considering . . . well . . ."

The two looked down at the clothes that America got from Dutch. All over them were cuts and holes, with splatters of mud and blood here and there. She only had the clothes for a day and they were already ruined.

"Thank you, I appreciate it."

"No problem." The blonde smiled.

America rose from her bed and revealed her bare breasts to the bar owner.

"Oh! Uh . . . I'll give you some privacy. Come down stairs for breakfast and we'll go over strategies to take on the cult." Mary left the clothes on the dresser and quickly left.

The Deputy chuckled. "Heh. She's adorable."

She put on a pair of cargo pants and then slipped on a purple tanktop. America was a little surprised to see a bullet-proof vest among the pile of clothes. She strapped that on after putting on a pair of sneakers.

She left her room, following Boomer down the stairs and found Pastor Jerome, Merle, Mary May, and Doug Gardner leaning over a map on a table. When America reached the bottom Casey, the cook, came out from the kitchen with a plate of bacon and eggs.

He handed America the plate and presented it to her with a smile that was equally warm and fresh. "Eat up, we need you to keep up your strength."

America took the plate thankfully. "Thanks, Mr. Fixman."

"Please, Mr. Fixman was my father. My friends call me Casey."

"Thank you, Casey."

"Your welcome. Eat up now, we won't have much of that left." He pointed to the bacon before heading back to the kitchen.

America joined her fellow Resistance members at the table. They all greeted her morning.

"Morning, everyone. How's the arm, Merle?"

"Still messed up. Won't be driving my Death Wish for a while."

"That and because it's totaled." Mary said.

"Don't remind me." Merle grumbled.

"Good of you to join us Deputy. We're just going over the current situation." Jerome explained in his deep, soothing voice.

"Lay it on me, Pastor, what's going on?"

Mary decided to be the one to answer. "After your little revolution yesterday, John's been upping the ante." She pointed to several spots on the main road that encircled Fall's End. "He's set up road blocks all over the Main Road, trying to keep us in like sheep."

"He's also got everything from the scrapyards to the farms turned into outposts for the cult." Doug said. "Some new refugees told me that the cult is harvesting these places, squeezing them dry of resources to be stored in John's Bunker. According to them several families are being held hostage."

"Fuck." America cursed. "How are we on resources?"

"Could be better . . . could be worse." Mary summed it up.

"We need more food!" Casey shouted from the kitchen.

"He's right." Mary agreed. "We saved what we could from the cult, but they've been bleeding us dry for months—long before this recent assault."

"How much we got?"

"Overall? About a week's worth. But if we intend to save more people then that number will drop fast." Mary answered the Deputy.

America leaned on the table to get a better look at the map of Holland Valley. The entire region was flatlands, with several farms spread all over. But there were still sections of forestry where game was common, especially in the north and southern sections. They would need to cut through the peggies though to get there. Thankfully there were rivers all around.

"Do we have any experienced hunters in Fall's End? Fishermen?"

"We got a few." Jerome answered. "But it's not safe for them to go out alone with the peggies lurking around."

"Make sure then they travel in groups of two or three. Fish, deer, boar whatever they can get, but warn them that if the peggies are too much to handle, drop everything and get to safety."

Jerome smiled approvingly and nodded.

"Boomer and I freed Gardenview yesterday. Can we rely on them for food too?" America questioned.

"Sure. Thanks to the cult we already have several apples plucked and ready for shipping. Though we'll need some protection to make sure the food gets to the town safely. But I should remind ya'll that we don't have an unlimited source. So Gardenview can't supply the whole Resistance."

"My people are close by." Merle said. "They'll make sure you guys get to your destination safely." Doug nodded gratefully.

"If we can liberate the other farms then you won't have to be the only one supplying us." Jerome said, and he pointed to three locations. "Sunrise Farm, Woodson Pig Farm, and Kellett Cattle Co. were the only other farms that didn't submit to the cult. If we liberate those three, we can feed our people much better and starve the cult at the same time."

"A little taste of their own medicine. I like it." Merle perked up.

"We're also going to need more weapons and ammo. As well as extra hands to hold them." Jerome added.

"Loot the bodies of the peggies." America suggested simply.

"I like the way you think, Deputy." Merle grinned.

"First we got to turn the peggies into corpses, Deputy." Mary said sardonically. "Not as easy as it sounds. No, the fastest way would be to recruit people that already have a vast majority of weapons and ammo."

"Grace Armstrong . . ." Jerome said somberly.

"Wendell Redler." Merle said next.

"Armstrong . . . the woman that took bronze in the Olympics?"

"The very same. If you think Boomer's famous, Grace is the reason Hope County had a boom in business and publicity."

Boomer was lying underneath the table. He raised his head and whined curiously from hearing his name.

"The sad part is her home was burnt down the night the peggies went crazy."

"Crazier." Merle added.

"And no one's seen her since. Damn shame, we could use those military sharpshooter skills of hers right now." Jerome lamented.

"So, Wendell's our best shot at better weapons." America looked at Mary inquisitively. "Wendell's a former soldier, a veteran of the Vietnam War. Rumor has it he's got a huge stash of weapons and ammo on his property. If it's true and I'd bet a whole bottle of whisky that it is, then we need to get in contact with him."

"It's not a bad idea." Merle hummed, stroking his handlebar mustache. "I'll get Dutch on the horn, he's a friend of Wendell's, and have him tell Wendell that we're sending someone to him."

"Where's Wendell live?" America asked.

Mary pointed to the location in the south-eastern part of the map.

"I'll go. My house is close by there—I've got some guns and ammo the people can use."

"Peggies got be skulking all around there after what you did." Merle warned.

"Maybe so, but I got to risk it." America said adamantly.

"Just be careful America, we can't lose you."

"Mary's right." Jerome agreed. "You've given these people hope. If we lose you morale will plummet all the way down into hell."

"And then we'll follow not long after." Mary said darkly.

"Your concern is appreciated, but it's my job to put my life on the line for you people." They all gave her an uneasy look. "I'll be careful! I don't intend on dying if I can help it. Just trust me everyone."

They all seemed to accept that, if just a bit hesitantly.

"Ahh, I'm not worried." Merle waved his good hand good naturedly. "You helped out both the Silver Lake and Gardenview, plus liberated a whole State Park Island. All in one day! She's got this everyone." He said confidently.

His words perked everyone up and had them all nod in agreement.

"Thanks, Merle." America said appreciatively. "Now what's left to talk about?"

"Trucks!" Merle suddenly blurted out, startling a few of them. "We need big, four-wheeled, mother-honkin' trucks!" There was a pause after his outburst. "Plus equipment and tools to repair them."

"He's right." Doug confirmed. "We don't have too many vehicles and most of them aren't in the best shape."

"What about the garage here in town?" America asked.

"What stuff we managed to save from the peggies isn't enough to last." Mary replied. "We're going to need WAY more if we're to go up against the cult's forces."

"And I know just where to look!" He pointed a fat finger to a place called the, "US Auto."

"It's kind of a junk yard, as well as a mechanic." Jerome explained.

"The peggies are using the place to repair their convoys. Taking that place will hurt them and help us."

The Rookie-Cop eyed the place. "Didn't you say Eden's Gate has a lot of patrols and road blocks on the main road? That's a lot of peggies between us and US Auto."

"Like you said: it's worth the risk." Merle threw back.

"I may have a way to deal with all the . . . 'traffic.'" Mary said vaguely.

"What do you mean?"

Mary let a pause settle between them before she answered. "The Widowmaker."

"What the hell's the Widowmaker?"

"My dad's big rig. He was one of the first to stand up to the cult. Anytime they came into town to start up trouble, he'd hop into that truck and chase 'em out. He loved that truck . . . and those fuckers stole it from him a week before he passed." She said somberly, with a hint of fury behind her voice.

"I know you miss him, Mary. A lot of folks around here do." Jerome comforted.

"He was one of the good ones." Merle lamented. "Really knew how to put the screws to bastards like the Seeds. Took shit from no one, no how!"

Mary sniffed and composed herself. "Listen Deputy, if there's one thing the cult is afraid of it's that truck. Get it . . . and you'll give Eden's Gate another reason not to fuck with us."

The Deputy looked at the beautiful blonde and saw the loss . . . and the resolve in the woman's eyes. It was intoxicating and if this truck was as revered and feared as everyone said it was, then it had to be worth it.

"Where is this Widowmaker?"

The meeting was adjourned, and the Resistance Leaders split to perform their duties. Pastor Jerome and Merle stayed behind to watch over the town and direct the hunters and gatherers, Doug returned to Gardenview with a contingent of men to protect him on the way and Mary May was planning an assault on Sunrise Farm.

America packed up all the supplies she needed. Jerky and water to keep her fed and hydrated on the road. She strapped her silver revolver, Judgment, to her hip, the double-barrel rifle, The Farmhand, and the lever-action rifle, Fall's Ghost, to her back and stuffed a couple sticks of dynamite and some throwing knives in her bag. Boomer let out a couple of barks to remind her he was here, so she scratched his head to thanked him for his company.

She took a truck and headed south. She passed by many cultists prowling the roads and hoped that they wouldn't be too much of a hindrance. Her hopes went unrealized as she skidded the truck to a stop when ahead of her, at a fork in the road, a road block was set up.

Four armed peggies saw her and raised their weapons, but they didn't fire. They did approach though.

"Shit."

"Step out of the car!" One of the cultists ordered.

America did as they said, but first she rolled down the window before opening it. She made sure to keep her gun hidden. She didn't close the door when she stepped out.

"Close the door!"

"O-okay!" She tried to sound frightened to lull them into a false sense of strength. "D-d-don't s-shoot! I'll come quietly."

"That's good." The lead cultist said pleased. They came closer, some even lowered their weapons a little. "John likes obedience. I'm sure your sins will-"

He didn't get to finish as America whipped out her prized pistol with the skill of an old western cowboy. The first shot blew a hole in the lead cultist's head. The second shot punctured a hole in another peggie's chest, and the third got a cultist in the shoulder.

The first one died, but the second was downed, while the third and fourth were able to retaliate. The Deputy hid behind her car door, the bullets dinged against and perforated the door. It held up, but it wouldn't for long. Peeking from the side, America saw the third Peggie, the one shot in the shoulder, try to drag the downed cultist to safety, while the farthest cultist, who stayed back to defend the position, continued to suppress her with gunfire.

Boomer barked at her and threw to her Fall's Ghost.

"Thanks Boomer!" She peeked out of hiding and fired at the farthest back cultist. When he ducked down into cover, the Deputy fired on the injured cultist. She got him with the last bullet.

While she reloaded her weapon, she heard the last remaining Peggie shout out "No!" and continued to fire at her. Instead of wasting the rounds, America decided to light a stick of dynamite.

She waited for the right moment. When it sounded like the Peggie stopped to reload, she lit the wick and threw it over to the barricade. It landed and rolled underneath the trucks.

The explosion made the truck blow up and the force of it caused the other vehicles to be pushed back. America aimed her rifle out of the open window. She waited a few minutes before slowly making her way over to the blockade.

She whistled. Boomer hopped out of the truck and followed. She passed by the Peggie that was shot in the chest and being dragged by his friend to safety. His eyes were dead and glassy, bled out. She walked passed the third cultist and saw him bleed from the chest—dead.

The Deputy finally made it to the blockade. The truck that was hit was smoking, a fire was burning under the hood, the tires popped, and it would take a lot of wax to buffout all the dents and scratches. It was totaled. The other two vehicles were okay though, a little dinged up, but drivable.

She went around the wrecked car and found the last cultist lying on the ground, bleeding and covered in burns and soot. His breath was shallow. From what she could tell the peggie's chest was slightly caved in from the explosion. Him coughing up blood was a good indicator.

He glared at her. He tried to say something, but it was a gargled mess, with all the blood. America kneeled down and looked him in the eye. She matched his glare for a few seconds before he coughed and wheezed his last breath.

America stared at the body for a bit longer before she let out a breath.

"My first kills of the day." She sighed.

'One of many to come.' She thoughts dejectedly.

Boomer whined and nudged her arm. She smiled and pet the dog. They headed back to the truck and continued on.

No other cultists blocked the way to her destination. She made it to her house. She slammed the car door shut and looked at her simple abode. It was a two-story house, wooden, white, with a black, pointed rooftop and L-shaped in design. A simple, black mailbox stood guard by the road, empty. Not that she was expecting any mail anytime soon. A small garden with various flowers were displayed on each side of the steps. Said wooden steps led to a thick white door, that had the number "227" displayed on it.

It wasn't much, but it was her new home . . . and it looked like the peggies hadn't come . . . yet. She looked at Boomer and saw the cattle dog was calm. He had good senses so if there was any danger, she knew her companion would have warned her.

Still though, she couldn't help to be a little on edge, so she took her time to walk up to and open the door. Didn't look like anyone broke in. She tried the knob—still locked.

Taking out the key she unlocked it and walked in.

Silence.

After about two minutes of quiet, waiting for any strange noises, she let out a held breath and walked in unworried.

All of her boxes were still in the living room, still unpacked. Furniture had arrived and had been set up, but electronics like lamps and the TV were still not hooked up.

'Good. Nothing on but Peggie bullshit.'

She walked into the kitchen and went for the fridge. She opened it and pulled out a beer. It hissed after twisting the cap off and she chugged down half the bottle to calm her nerves. America looked to her side and saw Boomer waiting for her patiently.

"Come on, boy." She led the dog to the back, where the laundry room was.

Inside the laundry room was not just a washing machine and dryer, but also a large safe that was a head bigger then her.

"Good, hasn't been tampered with." That actually surprised her. No peggies had invaded her home? She would have thought that her house would be the first place they'd check.

Putting that thought aside, she put in the code by turning the knob and unlocked the safe. Inside were several AR rifles, lever-action rifles, shotguns, and pistols. Nothing of the caliber of her current hardware, but a gun was a gun. And bullets were bullets. She pulled out several cartridges of handgun ammo, rifle rounds, and buckshot.

When the weapons were secured, she pulled out an envelope where she kept extra money. There was around $5000 dollars inside. No way would she leave this behind.

There was one last item she needed to secure, but this one was personal. In the door of the safe, secured in a leather holster, was a large bowie knife.

It was twelve inches in length, with the usual clip near the point that most bowie knives are known for. The hilt was a faded brass and the handle was made from polished ponderosa pine.

It was her Dad's knife. Passed down from his father and his father before. America remembered her Dad using it every time they went camping, whether to carve, cleave, or skin, her dad always had a use for it.

'I bet he never expected me to use it in a God damned range war.' She thought morbidly.

After strapping the knife to her belt, she loaded all the weapons and ammunition into a dufflebag and slung it onto her shoulder. Not wanting to waste any more time she headed for the door back to Fall's End.

She stopped though when she saw an open box. Two items caught her attention. A framed picture and a gold medal.

The picture was of America and her parents. Her Mom was on the right and her Dad on the left. It was the day she graduated from the academy and became an official cop. A lot of people said she took after her mother in appearance. She had brown hair and green eyes, but she also had some of her strong facial features like her wide jaw and chin. Her Dad had black hairand she had a bit of that too mixed in with her brown. But a lot of people always said she acted more like her Dad. Makes sense since her Mother was always overseas.

Putting the picture under arm, she picked up the gold medal next. On it was two boxing gloves with the "#1" stamped on. It was her first place medal in boxing and it was the second thing she was most proud of in her life. She worked hard to earn the medal and without boxing she probably wouldn't be where she is today. Hell, she would no doubt be a completely different person. Definitely not a cop.

"Grr!"

America turned her head to see Boomer facing the front door, releasing a low growl. She rushed over to the window and saw several white trucks pull up in front of the house, all bearing a black cross.

Cultists hopped out of their vehicles with one big one stomping out. The Deputy's eyes widened when she saw the flamethrower in the man's large hands. His entire outfit consisted of leather. Leather Jacket over a white fleece sweater, stamped with the cult's cross, boots, gloves, even his face mask was jet-black leather. On his back were two red tanks that fueled the flamethrower.

"Deputy Jones!" One of the peggies called out. Probably the leader of this squad. "We know you're in there! We got you surrounded. Surrender yourself now and the Father shall forgive you for your transgressions."

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" America panicked. She spun around the room looking for anything to give her protection. There were too many guns and the flamethrower would incinerate her house in minutes.

"This doesn't have to end in violence. The Father is a kind, compassionate man . . . John Seed can convince you of that. Come with us and he will show you the way of the Father."

Ignoring the ranting, America tossed over the couch and a desk, erecting a makeshift barricade. She ran into the kitchen and found several bottles of whiskey. I quick look outside and she saw three cultists waiting outside for her. Without thinking she grabbed ahold of the fridge and pushed it to its side, making it lean down on the counter in front of the door. They wouldn't be able to flank her that way.

"Father Joseph only wants to help you Deputy Jones. But you have to let him."

The Squad Leader looked to the Flamer and he nodded.

Grunting the flamer approached the door. "Deputy Jones, you will bathe in the light of the Father . . . whether you want to or not."

The Flamer walked up the front steps and was a mere foot from the door. He raised his leg and kicked the door with tremendous force. The door crashed open, shattering the lock and splintering the frame. The Flamer smirked, but then he was launched back by the powerful force of The Farmhand.

America smirked behind the smoking gun but was shocked to see the Flamer grunt and push himself up weakly. She aimed her shotgun again and blasted the tank on the man's back.

A fiery explosion engulfed the area in a ten-foot radius. A couple of peggies were knocked out, but others took cover and survived.

"Return fire!" The Squad Leader commanded.

The peggies let loose and bullets impacted against her house. America curled behind her barricade with Boomer. She heard glass shatter, wood splinter, furniture tear, her house being destroyed all around her. Peeking through her eyes she saw Boomer pushing his head into the ground, his paws pressed against his head, covering his eyes and being so close she could even hear him whine in fright.

The cult laid waste to her house for an entire minute before the Squad Leader finally motioned for them to cease. On the outside the house was in shambles. Bullets holes riddled the surface like a dotted painting. Smoke and dust rose from the enemy guns and smoking tattered walls.

"If by some miracle you live Deputy then throw down your weapons and come out. Patience is a virtue Joseph has taught us, but we all have our limits. One last time: Surrender."

They were met with silence. No response came from the house. The Squad Leader shouted for her again and again, but there was still no response from the house. No words, no bullets.

After a while the Squad Leader sent some of his men in to see if she was alive. They walked through the destroyed door and into the living room. Slowly, they made their way to the barricade and found nothing behind it.

"She ain't here!"

"Search the house!" The Squad Leader ordered. "She hasn't gone around so she must still be there!"

They did as commanded and started searching the whole house. They split up, three going upstairs, three staying downstairs.

The ones headed upstairs took slow, careful steps, cautious that the Deputy could attack them from anywhere. When they reached the top of the stairs, they found a hallway with three doors.

What caught their attention the most though was the hatch to the attic, which was wide open.

The head cultist motioned for them to be quiet and to check the rooms. They did as instructed and each took a door. Each turned a knob and pushed a door open. Their guns still trained, they went a step at a time to enter the room.

The first one found the restroom. He checked the closet but found it too cramped and full of towels to be a hiding place. He went near the bathtub and slowly reached for the curtains. Then he quickly pulled them open to reveal it empty. This brought a sigh of relief to him.

The second found the master bedroom. There was not much in there save for the bed. He checked under it but found it empty. The last place he looked was in the closet. He pulled it open quickly and found nothing but a hamper full of dirty clothes.

The third had found what he assumed was a spare room. It was completely empty. Save for a few boxes in the middle that were too small to hide in or behind. He checked with his brothers and they each gave him the clear.

So, the only last place to look was the attic.

One cultist took point, with the other two behind him on his left and right. One by one they all walked up the ladder and into the attic. Like most of the house, the place was empty, but there were dark corners that people could hide in.

The lead cultist walked over to the window and opened the blinds, letting light shine through. It brightened the whole room and revealed it to be completely empty. All of them were confused. They checked every room upstairs; the attic was the only place left. Where could she be?

Suddenly there was a loud slam and the three ran toward the hatch. It was closed shut and they couldn't open it!

"Hey!" One banged on the hatch.

"Let us out!"

"What happened?"

America smiled at the closed hatch, trapping the three cultists in the attic. It was fortunate that she hadn't unpacked everything when she moved in. It left the spare room empty and made the cultist ignore it without taking hardly three steps in. She had hid behind the door, knife drawn and waited for any action to be had.

"She's upstairs!"

"Shit!"

All the commotion unfortunately drew the attention of the other cultists. One of them, armed with a knife came at her.

America drew her Dad's Bowier Knife and deflected the cultist's knife. She jumped back from one swing, then dodged under another. She then flipped her knife in a backhand position and swiped across the cultist's stomach. He stumbled back, clutching his gut trying to keep his organs in. America took her opening and charged forward, planting her knife in the man's chest.

Another cultist came up the stairs and readied to shoot. America tried to stay behind the fallen cultist and use him as a human shield. That was when Boomer leaped out of the bedroom and grabbed ahold of the peggie's gun. The good boy ripped it out of his clutches allowing America to pull out her knife and chuck it at the next cultist head.

The man grasped the knife and fell to his knees, dead. That was when the next cultist came up. America pulled out Judgement and fired three shots into him. She advanced forward to retrieve her knife, shooting two more that came up the stairs.

Boomer came to her, a new gun for her collection in his mouth. On his head were a pair of her red panties, definitely from the basket he was hiding in in her bedroom. She giggled and took them off, stuffing them in her pocket.

She heard stomping up the stairs and readied Fall's Ghost to take them all out.

Outside, the Squad Leader could hear the chaos. Mainly, he could hear guns going off and the sound of men screaming before being silenced by more gunshots.

"Shit!" The Squad Leader shouted. "Hewes, burn it down!"

"But—but our brothers are still in there." Hewes stuttered.

"They know what they signed up for! They will die in the name of Father Joseph and be welcomed by the Lord Above for their bravery."

"B-But—but—"

The Squad Leader turned on Hewes, his face a contortion of fury. "Am I hearing defiance in you Hewes?" He got closer to Hewes, close enough to be touching nose to nose, staring the trembling man down. "Going against the Father's very will? Does John need to know your resolve is faltering?"

Hewes broke out into a sweat and shakily tried to light the cloth-stuffed bottle of alcohol. Once he got the lighter to spark, he silently prayed for forgiveness and threw the Molotov cocktail.

It shattered against the house and set forth a blaze that spread over the entire domicile within seconds.

"I am sorry brothers!" The Squad Leader called out. "At least you die by the Holy Blaze of Father Joseph, instead of by the cold steel of that sinner."

America fired the Farmhand forcing the cultists to keep their heads down. She ducked into her bedroom to reload and that's when she smelled the smoke.

"Shit! Bastards lit my house on fire!"

The fire and smoke were spreading everywhere. All around her was the growling of fire or the shouts of Eden's Gate cultists.

"The house is on fire!"

"Let's get out of here!"

"Wait, we're trapped!"

"Please, help!"

"I don't want to die!"

It disgusted her how much the cult was willing to sacrifice its own. They talk about love and acceptance, but how quickly they discard others. Just another sign of how hypocritical Joseph and his cult were.

But she couldn't focus on that now. She needed to escape before the fires reached her. She could run for the exit, but the peggies would be waiting to shoot her the moment she stepped through the front door. Looking around, she had only one idea. One plan of attack and it was stupid.

"Okay, Boomer, listen up." The cattle dog gave his undivided attention. He was actually very cool given the position they were in. "We're going out that way." She pointed to the window, the dog let out a confused whine. "I know it's dumb, but we don't have much choice."

"Bark! Bark!"

"It's either burn alive or—wait, why the fuck am I talking to you like I know what you're saying?"

Boomer turned his head cutely in confusion. America shook her head in both bemusement and hysteria.

"I'm losing my damn mind—fuck it! Follow me or find a way out of here, Boomer!"

America walked to the far end of the room. She rubbed the tattoo on the back of her neck, giving her strength and courage to do this next completely insane thing. Making sure that the dufflebag was secure one last time, she got in a running position and the sprinted for the window.

Her arms crossed over her head and dived through the window. She tumbled onto the roof and perfectly continued to run. But she didn't have far to go and jumped off the roof. The peggies below were surprised to see someone jump out the window and the Squad Leader was the first to pay for the surprise.

America jumped off the roof and landed on top of the Squad Leader. The landing was rough, but she ignored the shock through her body and raised her boot, smashing it against the Squad Leader's head. She then whipped out Judgement and fired a round into Hewes' head, killing him instantly.

She spun her body around and fired twice at the next cultist. Turning thirty degrees more, she fired twice again at the next. From around back, two more peggies came. She fired the last bullet and killed the second to last Peggie. But now she was out of ammo and she wouldn't be fast enough to get the last one.

The Peggie raised his rifle, but out of the door came running Boomer and he grabbed the man's gun. The dog played tug of war with him for a few seconds before the hound dragged him down to the ground and snapped his jaws around his neck. The Peggie screamed out in pain before Boomer snapped his neck like a twig.

The Deputy reloaded her treasured pistol and looked back down at the cult Squad Leader. He was groaning in pain, dazed from her kick. Three streams of blood were pouring down his face. She leveled Judgment point blank against his temple.

"You won't get away with this!" He grunted. "John will reap you! He'll cleanse your soul so hard, you'll want to die for all the pain and misery you've caused. You'll beg for forgiveness, you'll beg for salvation, you'll—"

*BAM!*

Blood splattered on her face, but America didn't flinch. Behind her the house was completely engulfed in fire and it crumbled to ash, killing any cultist that was trapped and alive inside. Again, the Deputy didn't flinch. She just kept staring at the new life she just took.

Boomer did though, and he walked up to his new master with concern in his adorable eyes. He nudged her hand, causing her to look down and then look at the still burning house.

'Where will I live now.' She wondered numbly.

America looked up at the sky and noticed the position of the sun. She laughed humorlessly. It was only a little past ten.

"Come on, Boomer. The day's just starting."

She collected all the guns and ammo that the cultists had and even retrieved an intact flamethrower from the flamer. She threw them all into the back of the truck, opened the passenger door for Boomer and got in the driver seat.

The first item off her to-do-list was done. Now she needed to get more weapons.

America arrived at the Redler household and much to her shock she found several peggies dead on the ground. The place looked more like a war zone then anywhere else in Hope County. Bodies were riddled with holes, torn apart and burnt by explosions. She found signs of land mines via potholes with scorch marks surrounding them. Vehicles were upturned or on fire from the amounts of damage they've taken. If the rest of Hope County wasn't such a war zone this would raise concerns for the Deputy.

America carefully walked over all the cold corpses, hoping Boomer was good at sniffing out bombs and approached the house. Then a bullet landed near her feet after coming within ten yards of the house.

"Friend or foe?!" Someone shouted from the second floor. A woman's voice.

"Friend—Friend!" America quickly shouted, lifting her hands in the air to show she meant no harm.

"Identify yourself!"

"My name is Deputy Jones. I'm with the Resistance at Fall's End!" There was silence for a few seconds. "Please, I'm only here to talk."

The front door of the old wooden house opened. Out walked an old man with grey, stringy hair, a cowboy hat, suspenders over an ugly, yellow shirt, and spectacles. His steps were uneven, he walked with an elongated stride, but he seemed to carry himself tall with pride.

"Stand down, Cassidy!" The old man shouted above. "We got ourselves a welcomed guest this time."

Out of the window came the shooter. America's eyes widened when she saw a beautiful woman in her late twenties, wearing tight jeans that showed off her long legs, a flannel shirt that was covered by a bullet proof vest and then she saw the woman's face. Glasses over a freckled nose, green eyes staring her down intensely, and stunning neck-long, red, frazzled hair that framed a beautiful face. In her hands, gripped tightly, was an AR-C Rifle.

"You the Deputy that Dutch called ahead about?"

The old man's words snapped her out of her gawking stupor. The Deputy hoped that they didn't notice her staring. She coughed a little before replying.

"Yes. That's me. Am I to assume you're Wendell Redler?"

"I am, but most people call me 'Red.'" He confirmed. "Dutch told me Fall's End was liberated the other day, but I could scarcely believe it. Good to know we aren't the only ones holding out."

America looked behind her to see all the destruction. "Yeah. You're holding out better than most."

"So, what brings you here, Deputy?" Wendell asked.

"Two things. I'm here to get you and your . . ."

"Granddaughter."

To America's surprise the woman answered, and she had sexy a voice to go along with her beautiful appearance.

"Granddaughter . . . to safety."

"And the second thing?" The old man asked gruffly.

"We were hoping you would have weapons to spare for the Resistance."

"Ah, I see how it is. I thank you for coming this far, Deputy, but the sad news is I can't give you my weapons . . . but I'd like to."

America looked at him questioningly. "Can I ask why?"

"Because we can't get in." The girl, Cassidy, answered.

"It's a long story. See, me and my boys from 'Nam decided that we would stockpile weapons and ammo and other supplies in case that something like Vietnam would ever come to our country. We've made quite a collection over the years. Called it the Freedom Fund on account we would stay that way come hell or high water. The gears locked up safe and sound." He pointed to a shed not even twenty feet from her position.

"The problem is, the only way to get the Freedom Fund is with a code. And each digit of the code is etched on the bottom of a lighter, owned by several of my former men-at-arms."

"Why on Earth would you do that?" She questioned. Seemed counterproductive to break up the key to the only protection you built up over the years.

"We were a paranoid bunch. You'll find that's common around these parts." He answered.

She almost dreaded to ask. "So how many of these lighters do you need?"

"There's twelve total."

'Fuck!'

"And many of my friends lived all over Hope County."

'Double fuck!'

"But you'll be glad to know that my granddaughter has already gotten more than half of them."

'Fu—wait, really?'

"Wait, really?"

Cassidy gave her a roguish smirk. "Damn straight. I like to be productive, Deputy. Most of Papa's vet friends were dead or gone so I went out and got most of them before shit hit the fan and the cult went crazy."

"Wait, by "got them" do you mean . . ." did she steal them?

"I ain't saying nothin' Deputy." She sneered. "Besides, no one was using them. Just put on display, collecting dust. Me and papa will at least put them to good use."

America had no choice but to let that slide. Peggies were more threatening then some thief. Suddenly she recalled something.

"Hang on a second."

She pulled off her pack and rummaged through it. She finally found what she was looking for and pulled out a worn, scuffed, silver lighter, with a green and white star stamped on it.

"Is this one of your lighters?" She tossed it and the old man caught it expertly with one hand.

He examined the lighter and focused on the scratch-grafitti on the back.

"Fuck Communism." He chuckled. "This is Woody's lighter. Why do you have this?" his eyes settled on Boomer. "Why do you have his granddaughter's dog too?"

She couldn't stop herself from lowering her head in shame. Memories of dead bodies came flooding back. "I'm sorry. Rae-Rae's Pumpkin Farm got attacked . . . there were no survivors, except for Boomer."

She heard Cassidy gasp and Wendell cursed up a storm like Dutch did when he first heard. Boomer whined sadly at hearing his former master and home's name.

"Even the kid is . . ." He couldn't finish that sentence, but America nodded to confirm his horrors. "Fuck!"

Wanting to move away from the terrible subject, America gave them an explanation.

"I went back to their house after liberating Gardenview from across the street. Thought maybe they'd have weapons the farmers could use. Found that lighter just sitting in a bunker out behind their house. It looked important, thought maybe it could be useful."

"You have no idea." He looked under the lighter and found the number "8" etched underneath. "We're one more step closer to unlocking the Freedom Fund."

"How secure is the Freedom Fund?" She asked.

"Very. Like I said, the only way in is with the twelve-digit code. You wouldn't even be able to blast your way in. Not unless you had something powerful like a nuke."

"Good, then Mr. Redler—"

"Please, Deputy, call me Red."

"Red, will you please let me take you and your granddaughter to Fall's End where you'll be safer? You've held out for quite a long time, but the peggies seem endless. They'll just keep sending more and more until they've got you in their claws."

"You're asking me to abandon my home?"

"I'm asking you to think about your lives. Your granddaughter's life. It's beyond impressive that you've fought them off but trust me Eden's Gate is relentless. They just burnt down my home and I barely survived that encounter. I don't want you two to go through the same thing I just did."

"All the more reason why we should stay. If my home's going down, then I'll fight for it to the bitter end."

"Papa!" Cassidy walked off the roof and jumped down to the ground. She walked up to her grandpa and confronted him with a hard stare.

"Papa, I want to defend this place as much as you do. I've got so many fond memories here with you . . . but we have to face facts—we're tough, but not tough enough to face armies. We're running low on ammunition and food. I'm scared to leave you here alone to go out to get supplies or to get the remaining lighters. I don't want to lose this house, but I don't want to lose you more." She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. Her eyes were on the brink of crying. "So please, live a little bit longer and let's go with the Deputy."

Red stared at his granddaughter for a long while before sighing in defeat. "Okay darlin', you win. Deputy give us a while to pack everything up into our truck. We'll let you lead the way to Fall's End."

"Thank you, Red." America smiled. Unbeknownst to the two, it was more of a relief then they realized.

It took half an hour for the Redlers to pack up all they needed. The weapons, the ammo, the food, and the clothes. Anything the cult could take to use against them. Then there were the personal belongings. Wendell and Cassidy quickly ran around the house taking a few treasured pictures, war medals that Wendell held dear, and the jewelry that belonged to Cassidy's grandmother. The lighters, they packed up in a small, silver briefcase, sealed with a combination lock.

Outside America kept watch while she waited. She was so thankful that the Redlers were listening to her. She couldn't get the weapons from them just yet, but she honestly cared more about the people then possessions. Looking at Boomer, the hound was watching with her. Every time she looked at the dog it was a reminder of how she was too late to save Rae-Rae and her family. The sight of a mother and father clutching their dead son kicked her to the point of making her want to puke.

"Deputy!" Cassidy called from around the house. "We're all set."

America picked herself up and walked around the Redler house to the garage. It slowly opened up and presented an old pickup truck that had been very well taken care over the years . . . and armed to the teeth.

The truck was a 1956 Hierarch Force. It was military green, with the American flag painted on the side doors. The back bed was long and held a large M.50 Cal machine on top, complete with shielding.

"Pretty nice, huh?" Cassidy said. "Papa got it at an auction years ago. This baby was owned by a Colonel from the Vietnam War. Col. Banh I think his name was."

Red was already in the driver seat, waiting to head out. Cassidy, after loading the last bit of their stuff, jumped into the back and got on the mounted gun.

"Ready when you are, Deputy!"

America smiled and went back to her truck. Boomer hopped back into the passenger seat and stuck his head out the window as soon as they drove off.

It was almost a minute after they left they were beset by Eden's Gate cultists. But thanks to the gun mounted on the Redler's truck, they were more of a nuisance then a threat. Cassidy put an end to many drivers with just a few shots from her machine gun, making the roads a bit safer for the Resistance. They made it back to Fall's End pretty easily.

America radioed and signaled the guards of her arrival. They let them through and parked the vehicles in front of the Spread Eagle. Jerome and Mary walked out to greet them.

"Welcome back, Deputy." Jerome said.

"Red! Good to see you're okay." Mary hugged Wendell, then acknowledged Cassidy. "Cassidy, I'm glad you're safe too."

"What no hug for me?" She said in mock hurt, holding her arms open for a hug that would never come.

"Last time I did that you grabbed my ass." Mary said wryly.

"Eh, worth it." She shrugged.

"Where's Merle? I didn't see him at the garage taking care of the Death Wish." America asked.

"Got kicked out for annoying the mechanic too much. Went with the fishers." Jerome answered.

"He said he was feeling pretty useless, so he went out to fish and blow off steam." Mary checked her watch. "Should have made it to the river by now."

"How did the search for weapons go, Deputy Jones?" Jerome asked.

America showed off the dufflebag. "Sorry, this was all I could bring." She set the bag down near her feet. "The cult tried attacking me as soon as I arrived. Burned my house down."

Mary winced. "I'm sorry, Deputy."

"I saved the important stuff." She tried to reassure. "Anyways, Red here can explain to you about the weapons he has. I need to head over to the Woodson's Pig Farm."

"You shouldn't go alone, Deputy." Mary stopped her. She was worried now after hearing about the deputy's house. "You should bring backup."

"Boomer's my backup." She pointed her thumb behind her. At that moment Boomer was chasing his tail. "Besides, we hardly have anyone to spare. Fall's End needs to be protected above all else."

There would have been more arguing, but someone intervened.

"I'll go with ya."

Everyone looked to Cassidy's direction.

"What? I got sharp eyes and a quick trigger finger. I'll watch your back for ya."

"No, Cassidy!" Red vehemently tried to stop his granddaughter. "The Deputy's heading out to kick the hornet's nest. It's not like your usual sneaking around and stealing shit."

Cassidy placed her hands on her grandad's shoulders and gave him a reassuring smile. "Relax, Papa, you know I can handle myself. I'll be alright. Besides . . . Boomer'll watch my back."

Everyone looked down at the dog to see him licking his balls.

"I say let her, Red." Mary agreed. "She can definitely handle herself. Plus, Deputy Jones will keep her out of the worst trouble. Ain't that right Deputy?"

"I won't let any harm come to her sir." America reassured.

Red let out a defeated sigh. "I'll hold that to you, Deputy."

Before they left, they stopped by the store to pick up some ammo. America grabbed several rounds for her pistol and shotgun. She still had enough rifle rounds for the Fall's Ghost, but Cassidy got more of those rounds for her rifle.

They got into America's truck and headed north-east. America was driving, Cassidy took the passenger seat, and Boomer was snuggled between them.

Silence passed between the lot of them. They tried turning on the radio to pass the time but found only P.E.G. Radio and they didn't want to listen to that brainwashing bullshit. After a long time of no talking America decided to break the ice.

"So, you copped a feel of Mary May's ass?"

Cassidy looked over to the Deputy and gave her an incredulous look. America ignored it and just kept her eyes on the road. The redhead shrugged and responded indifferently.

"Yeah. So? You want to arrest me to for sexual harassment?"

Silence once again took over, but only for a moment. America's reply would catch Cassidy off guard.

"How was it?"

Cassidy nearly broke her neck looking back to the Deputy. She saw the brunette blush and refused to make eye contact, keeping her sight squarely on the road. Cassidy couldn't help but smile cheekily.

"Nice . . . round . . . and firm. Mmm-MM! Why do all the good-looking girls have to be straight?"

"Especially the blondes."

"Especially the blondes." Cassidy nodded coolly.

They both giggled at their mutual agreement.

"You lived in Hope County long?" America asked. "I just moved here three days ago."

"Shit. Sucks for you. Me? I've only been around—mmm, about a month. Papa was talking about the cult getting more and more restless. I was worried about the old man, so I came out here to give him a hand. When I arrived, he was dug in like he was preparing for a war." She shook her head. "Apparently the cult's been harassing my Papa for weeks. They don't care for military types. Especially vets—Vietnam vets especially.

America shook her head in disgust.

"Can you believe it?!" Cassidy started ranting. "These bastards judge my Papa and his buddies, while they're doing the exact same atrocious shit that was performed in Vietnam. Hypocritical motherfuckers! Have you heard the rumors that their pouring drugs into the water and land?"

"Kind of."

"Well I wouldn't be surprised if they were!"

"We'll stop them Cassidy." America said assuredly. Cassidy looked to the Deputy and saw the resolve in her brown eyes. "I swear we will stop them."

Cassidy smiled. "You're one of the good ones."

"What?"

"I've met a lot of shitty cops in my life, hell some of the shitty cops joined the cult, but you didn't. You've been trying to save the people, instead of looking out for yourself. You're risking your life for us."

"I'm just . . . trying to do my job."

"Heh heh, bullshit. If you were just doing your job, then you would have arrested me for taking those stupid lighters."

"Murderous cult I think takes precedence over thieves and ass-grabbers."

Cassidy laughed raucously the whole way to the pig farm.

They stopped the truck a mile from the farm and trekked the rest of the way on foot. Following a map, they cut through the woods and came to a cliff that overlooked the entire farm. The peggies were of course occupying it.

"What do you see down there?" America asked, looking through binoculars.

"Assholes. Nothing but assholes." Cassidy said, also looking through binoculars.

Two adults were kept on the far side of the farm, near a shed. A teenage boy was separated from them and kept alone near the piled-up furniture and belongings. If there were more hostages, they couldn't see them.

"I count four peggies, three hostages, but there could be more in the house. They got the whole family tied up and the dog locked up in a cage."

There were no other animals, save the dog. They must have taken the livestock already.

"Check it out, they got one of those douchebags with the flamethrower."

They looked down and saw one of the flamers setting fire to the pig pens. There were no pigs thankfully, but they were making sure the Woodsons wouldn't be able to farm there again.

"Bastards. It's not enough that they kick people out of their homes and businesses, they have to make sure no one ever has a livelihood again."

"That's why we're here. We'll stop them."

"And how do you propose we do that, Miss police woman?"

"With stealth. Boomer and I will head down, you stay here and keep an eye out with that rifle of yours. Think you can do that?"

"Roger dodger." She gave a mock salute.

"Don't fire unless I give you this signal." She held her hand close to her head and clenched it into a fist. "We don't want to alert them. They'll kill the hostages if they see us coming."

"I got it. I got it. Now go already, I don't like the way that flamer is eyeing the dog."

"Come on, Boomer."

Boomer followed behind America as she crept toward the farm. She hid behind some bushes and waited for the opportunity to head into the house. She wanted to make sure there weren't anymore hostages.

A cult member walked out of the house, rifle in arms, and walked around the house to the pig pen.

No cultist was looking her way, so she snuck over to the front door. Peering inside she saw a Peggie beating a poor, tied up woman. He was slapping her hard, knocking her to the floor, and then picking her up to do it again. He was demanding she tell him where their valuables were. From the looks of the dark bruising, she's been getting hit for a while.

Thinking quickly, America grabbed a rock from the gravel. She slowly opened the door so that it wouldn't creek and tossed the rock across the room. It clattered against the wall and took the cultist's attention away from his hostage. He went to investigate the noise in the hall. America slowly crept up, knife in hand, but the floors were too creaky, and her position was compromised.

The cultist twirled around after hearing the floor squeak, but he became dazed when America threw her knife and instead of hitting blade first, it was the pommel instead. The man yelled out, but before he could alert anyone, America charged and struck the man in the face, knocking him to the floor. She then wrapped her arm around the man and violently chocked him. The man struggled to breath and desperately tried to fight back. A little more tightening of the arm and America broke his neck.

"Thank you! Thank you! Oh God, thank you!" The woman cried.

America shushed her. "Please, keep you voice down. We don't want to draw attention." She looked around to see if anyone was coming. When the coast was clear she unbound the woman. "Keep low, my friends and I've got this."

"Hey, Oliver, how's it going with that sinner?"

A cultist was coming.

"Shit!" Thinking fast again she convinced the woman to be a hostage again. She didn't need to be bound, but she did need to kneel and keep her hands behind her back.

The woman was scared, but gathered her courage and agreed, nonetheless. America quickly hid by the side of the door and waited.

"Oliver?" She heard the stomping of boots on the deck. "Oliver can you—" There was a shadow through the screen door. "Oliver!" He ran in. "What happened to Oliver sinn—KAR!"

America grabbed the Peggie from behind and stabbed him in the chest. The knife entered and reentered his body two more times before America dropped him. Unfortunately, she wasn't quiet enough.

"Jerry, what was that?"

Another cultist was coming again and this time there was no way to trick them.

"Jerry?! Something's wrong, secure the sinners! I'm heading into the house!"

America quickly kneeled down to the girl and looked her in the eyes. "Okay listen whateveryournameis, I need you to go to a bedroom and lock the door. Hide, don't let anyone in unless it's me. Go now!" She pushed her to make her move faster.

"Jerry? Oliver? Are you in there?"

America heard him come around the side so she went through the backdoor. She quickly hid behind some trashcans and spotted the farthest two cultists. They were guarding the two hostages, the parents.

"Cassidy?" America whispered into her radio. "You there?"

"Yeah."

"Do you have sights on the Flamer?"

"I do."

"Is he clear of the hostages. You may need to take him out."

"No, he's too close."

"I'll try to lead him away, just keep your sights on him."

She saw Boomer crawling through the bushes and motioned for the dog to go for the closest one. Rustling through the plants Boomer pounced on the cultist, biting into his arm and dragging him down. The second cultist aimed his gun but couldn't pull the trigger without shooting his buddy.

They shouted and yelled, drawing the attention of the others. The flamer ignored the teenaged boy and went to help his friends. When he was close enough America fired her revolver, opening the dog's cage. It ran out and started tussling with the Flamer.

Boomer managed to snap his jaws around the peggie's neck and started chewing into it. Seeing the blood spill from his friend the peggie tried to shoot Boomer, but America shot three rounds into him before he could.

"You bitch!"

The Peggie that was investigating the house found her. America charged and caught him just as he opened the door. He yelled out and dropped his gun. Pinning him between the door and the doorway, America raised her gun and fired a single bullet into the man's brain.

Suddenly she heard the whining of a dog. Going around the house she saw the family's dog get tossed aside to the ground. Boomer went to aid his fellow canine but was knocked to the ground easily.

America pulled out the Farmhand and blasted the flamer before he could barbeque the two hounds. First shot made him stumble, second shot made him kneel in pain, but didn't kill him.

The Deputy whistled and called the two dogs over to her side. Then she called to the kid to get up and hide. It was good the cult didn't bind the legs as the kid went sprinting for cover.

The Flamer finally recovered, and he was mad. America wasn't concerned, and she gave him a terrifying, toothy smile. She raised her hand, all five fingers splayed out and then she balled it into a fist.

One shot rang out, followed by a fiery explosion. America ducked behind the house along with the two hounds. A few seconds and the dust finally settled. America rolled on the ground to face the sky and she sighed tiredly.

"How many more explosions am I gonna cause today?" She breathed.

'How many more tomorrow?'

America called Jerome and informed him of the safety of the Woodsons. Jerome was overjoyed to hear that they were safe and well. America, Cassidy, and Boomer remained with the Woodson family until the escort could arrive and take them to Fall's End. They watched from the driveway as the van carrying the whole Woodson family drove off.

When they were out of sight, Cassidy asked, "What's next, Deputy?"

"Now . . ." America took out her map and turned in the opposite direction. "We clear the roads of John Seed's men."

That caught Cassidy off guard. "How the hell are we gonna do that?"

America just smiled and headed toward the direction of a Grain Elevator

. . .

"This a stronghold?" Cassidy questioned.

"No. Looks like their using this old Grain Elevator as a pit stop or storage depot."

Looking through her binoculars, America could see a bunch of peggies moving around the facility. Lots of shouts and people barking orders. They moved cages that growled and roared. A forklift passed by carrying green crates of bliss. Over by some tables, on the far end of the compound were peggies packing up food and weapons. One cultist got her attention immediately. A heavily tattooed man with messy hair and beard, wearing a thorny crown with white flowers laced through it.

"They got a VIP with them. That's great." She sarcastically said. She moved her sights onto the garage to the right. "That must be where they're keeping the Widowmaker."

"You really think this truck is going to clear the main road?" Cassidy asked.

"Mary thinks so. And if these peggies are as scared of this thing as I think they are then it'll at least be a good morale booster for the Resistance."

"What do think? Shoot our way in?"

America didn't answer right away. She watched people go into the garage and come out of it a moment later.

"Actually, let's try a different approach."

The three made their way across the road. They got behind the garage which had just one guard waiting in front of the backdoor. The problem was the tall fence between them.

"So, what's your plan?"

America looked around and then handed Cassidy a rock. Cassidy looked at the stone in her hand weirdly.

"Boomer stay here. Cassidy, when I give you the signal throw that rock to the guard's left."

America crouched and headed toward the other side of the elevator. She spotted a hole in the chain-link fence and used it to sneak inside. Showing the signal to Cassidy, the redhead chucked the rock, hitting some crates, and drawing the guard's attention.

The guard turned his head and took a few steps toward where he heard the noise. It was the last thing he did before America grabbed his head and twisted it to an odd angle violently.

Cassidy and Boomer joined America by the door. The Deputy tried to open it, but the knob was stubborn. She tried turning with more force again, but realized it was locked. Looking to her side she saw a reminder note stapled to the doorframe. It mentioned the key was always on the VIP's person.

"Great. Looks like we will have to shoot our way through Cassidy."

"Maybe not. Move aside."

Cassidy lightly pushed America out of the way and pulled out a set of thin tools. She then stuck said tools into the lock holes and started twisting and jimmying them. Creating clicking and clacking sounds.

"You know how to pick a lock?" America asked.

"Yep." Cassidy said simply.

"How do you know how to pick a lock?"

"Hmm, here . . . and there."

"Thanks for the explanation." She said drolly.

"Hey, do you want to ask me questions or do you want me to open this lock for you, so we don't have to shoot more guys?"

America took the hint and shut her mouth. But Cassidy still wanted to get one more smart remark in.

"No seriously, if you want to shoot up all these fuckers I'm down for that."

There was an audible snap from the doorknob. Cassidy twisted it and said, "Open sesame."

They walked into the office of the garage, which was thankfully devoid of peggies. In fact, the whole building was empty, save for the massive, monster of a semi-truck sitting in the middle of the whole damn place.

America had never seen anything like it before. She's seen semis of varying styles, but none so . . . patriotic as the Widowmaker. It was decorated with flames on the hood and fenders, which morphed into the American flag over a dawn like purple, with a screeching eagle on the side past the exhaust pipes. And the best part? Two, high caliber machine guns were mounted on the sides on top of the fenders. It was one of THE most beautiful and American things she had ever seen in her entire God-Blessed life.

"Okay, I'm convinced. This is definitely worth stealing." Cassidy said.

"Oh yeah." America clapped and rubbed her hands together eagerly.

"And look, the cult was kind enough to load it with all kinds of supplies." Cassidy referred to the large trailer behind the big rig.

"All the more reason to take this thing. Hop in before someone comes."

She climbed into the cab and fished around for the keys. They fell out of the sun visors and America yipped in excitement. Turning the key in the ignition the rig roared to life, spewing smoke from its stacks. The rumbling of the engine was building up the adrenaline in the Deputy's veins.

Boomer jumped in and took the middle seat. Followed by Cassidy who take the passenger seat. The redhead reached over to the dashboard and turned on the radio.

"What are you doing?"

"If we're going to bust out of here, we're doing it in style!" After fiddling with the knobs and buttons Cassidy found the right song she was looking for.

Outside the peggies could hear the sound of a deep, melodic guitar solo coming from the garage. They looked at each other as they gathered near the garage shutter. Then they heard it . . . the sound that permeated their nightmares to this day. A guttural growl of a demon that bores through their very souls and threatens to tear them asunder.

They thought the monster was under their control now . . .

That John tamed the Beast.

They were wrong.

You can never cage the Beast!

" _ **So this ain't the end, I saw you again, Today!"**_

The Widowmaker burst out of the garage like the devil breaking out of hell. The cult screamed to the high heavens as the massive truck crushed most of them to death. They uselessly fired their weapons to stop it, but it just kept trucking.

The VIP, who was in charge of guarding the big rig, ran after and cried out in rage. Then he fell to his knees and whimpered in fear. John would have his skin for this failure.

"WoooooHOOOOO!"

America honked the horn a couple of times to express all the excitement she felt. She slammed on the dashboard like a drum before getting the truck's radio and calling Mary.

"Breaker, breaker, this is the Deputy callin' the Spread Eagle. Do ya copy Spread Eagle, over?"

After a while the radio crackled, and Mary responded. "This is the Spread Eagle, Deputy. What's the 411?"

"I got a little surprise for ya Mary. Here's a little hint." With her free hand she pulled the cord to honk the Widowmaker's large horn.

"Holy shit! You actually got the Widowmaker back?" Mary said ecstatically. "Cult's gonna throw everything at you now. Ram it right back down their fuckin' throats." She encouraged.

"Ten-Four, Spread Eagle! Woohoo!"

Just as Mary said, Peggies came all over trying to stop them and take back the Widowmaker, but it was laughably futile. America practically obliterated oncoming cultists. They came from the sides, out of the forests, riding on ATVs and she just plowed right through them. They quickly wised up and started coming in with trucks, trying to block her way, but she rammed them off the road, making them crash or crushing them.

America finally arrived on the main road surrounding Fall's End and she was coming onto her first blockade.

"My daddy put cannons on that thing. Don't be shy to use 'em." Mary suggested.

America wanted to slap herself. 'I forgot the guns!'

Looking on the dashboard, she found the rigged controls to operate the machine guns and pressed the big red button to fire. Like a hot knife through butter the two streams of high caliber bullets ripped apart the vehicles blocking their way and exploded in a fiery glory in mere **seconds**. Sending every Peggie standing near it straight to hell.

The Widowmaker pushed the wreckage aside and kept moving at high speeds. It wouldn't be long until they came up to the next blockade. America fired the guns and then once again plowed through the rest.

"Yeehaw!" Cassidy yelled.

"Bark! Bark! Bark!"

The passengers were enjoying themselves. It made The Deputy smile.

"Hey, Jones, can I fire the guns this time?"

"Sure, Cassidy." She giggled.

The next blockade they came to had a tanker blocking the way and America felt like she lost an opportunity. Cassidy giggled in gleeful sadisticness and fired the guns. The bullets impacted the tanker truck and it wasn't even three seconds before it erupted into a fiery explosion, sending both cars and bodies flying in opposite directions.

"Hit those sons of bitches." Mary cheered. Behind her voice they could hear other people cheering. "Better yet, honk that horn every time you do. So, I know when to cheer."

Both America and Cassidy looked at each other and shared a smile. America then floored it.

She crashed through anything bearing a black cross on white and if she couldn't hit it with her bumper, she turned it into swiss chees with her guns. They heard peggies yelling on the radio to stop them, but it was useless. More peggies drove out from the forest and tried to halt their charge, but a few shots from the machine guns made them veer off course.

A helicopter flew over, but it was not armed and seemed to just be tracking them. They ignored it for now and continued to decimate more cult blockades.

They were on their seventh blockade now. Heavily deep in Peggie territory. A couple of times they found civilians on the road being oppressed by the cult. With masterful driving techniques America ran over the cultists and missed the civilians. Saving the hostages.

"Deputy Jones . . ." A sickeningly calm voice came over the radio.

"Why do you refuse out message?"

America scowled and roughly grabbed the mike. "John Seed."

"Don't you see what you're doing? All this unnecessary violence? All this running around? And for what? What will it lead to? What will it accomplish?"

"Yours, your family's, Joseph, your whole God damned cult's end."

"Nothing." He ignored her response. "Nothing is what it will accomplish. You are damning these people by opposing us. If you would just accept us, if you would just convince the people, to open all your hearts to the Father, then we can save you! You can save everyone, Deputy! All you have to do is say: Yes!"

The ninth blockade was straight ahead of them. The helicopter that was buzzing around them stopped right above it. America couldn't stop the evil sneer on her lips.

"I'm not gonna tell you no, John." She said into the radio.

She practically smashed the red button, firing the guns. They ripped apart all the vehicles and exploded in seconds. Pieces of the cars launched into the air and impacted the helicopter. It spun out of control before it crashed into the ground and exploded too. The last blockade was gone.

"I'm gonna tell you Fuck No."

"You are making a mistake, Deputy." John tried to say in his calm voice. The same voice he used to display Hudson on LIVE TV. But the anger and frustration was clear as crystal. America took pride on pissing off the fucking sociopath, breaking his air.

"You were right about one thing John. I am going to save everyone. I'm going to save them from you, your fucked up family, your fucked up sheep of a people, and then I'm going to end your pussy of a brother Joseph."

" . . . . . . **. . !** " John was breathing heavily with so much rage now it was palpable. America could practically feel it seeping from the radio.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I got a county to save. Have a nice day Mr. Seed and go fuck Joseph's ass!"

She slammed the radio back into place and cut the connection. Cassidy and Boomer were just eyeing her, amazed by the amount of courage, stupidity, and balls it took to stand up to a monster like John Seed.

"I am so turned on right now." Cassidy murmured.

They soon got connected with Mary and Fall's End again.

"The way you're handlin' that rig would make my Dad proud, Deputy. Now bring her on home to Fall's End where she belongs."

"Ten-Four, comin' on home." America turned the wheel counter-clockwise, squishing one more Peggie head before heading back to Fall's End.

The reception they received when they returned could be called positive, but that would be an understatement. It was like a welcome home parade, with people on the sides of the road cheering and hollering in joy and triumph.

A couple of fighters led them over to the Spread Eagle and motioned for them to park on the left side parking lot. Apparently, it was where the truck used to sit since it was a perfect fit when they parked.

The truck screeched, coming to a halt. The group exited the truck and all the people around them applauded uproariously. Mary practically stumbled out of her bar, her hands cupped over her mouth. The memories of her father came flooding back and a couple tears came falling down her lithe cheeks.

America walked up to the blonde woman and offered her hand. Mary took it graciously.

Mary sniffed, wiped away the tears staining her face and pulled herself together.

"I gotta say, Deputy, seeing my Dad's truck rumblin' home sure brings back memories. I'd stand out here every time he came back—just like this—wavin' him home. Ya definitely got the grit to handle her. And more importantly . . . you got the heart. My dad would've liked you. If you ever need the Widowmaker, you don't even gotta ask."

You couldn't stop the giddy smile spreading across America's face. "Thank you, Miss Fairgrave."

"Call me Mary!" She chuckled and shoved the lawman playfully.

The rest of the day America, Mary, Cassidy, and many others spent it cleaning out the trailer behind the Widowmaker. The peggies had loaded it all up with supplies. They found various foods, like corn, tomatoes, beef, ham, grain, cereal, pasta and so much more. Then they found weapons—a lot of weapons. Rifles, shotguns, handguns, and even a couple of RPGs, much to their surprise, and ammo to go with it all. They found animals loaded in there as well, mainly dogs, wolves, and farm animals, such as pigs and chickens. In fact, most of the pigs belonged to the Woodsons and the rescued family was happy to get them back.

It was all a great haul! Casey even bragged about making a feast for tonight.

The group dispersed then, with Cassidy leaving to spend some time with her papa, but not before getting a promise out of America to bring her on missions again. America just wanted to take a load off. She placed all of her belongings that she saved from the cult and put them in the guest room that Mary granted her.

Dawn was slowly approaching, and America was sitting outside the Spread Eagle cleaning Judgement. Boomer was keeping her company, but then his attention was drawn towards the end of the street. A gold lab bounded toward the mixed breed, wagging her tail and barking eagerly.

Boomer looked up at America seeming conflicted. She laughed a bit and nodded toward the Labrador.

"Go ahead, boy. You've earned some R&R."

Boomer barked and chased after his new companion. The Deputy guessed the lab was in heat.

The thought of little mixed puppies, yapping and running all over the place caused her to giggle.

"Lucky dog, wish I had a bitch in heat too."

Wanting to distract herself from the thoughts of getting laid, America decided to patrol the outskirts of Fall's End. She started on the northern most part of the town, near the stockyards where the animals were penned. The Woodson's pigs were occupying them now. She was told that peggies were spotted around here a few hours ago.

"Hmm." She checked the dirt and grass. "No recent signs. Maybe they're backing off after the spanking I gave them with the Widowmaker."

The words had barely left her mouth when she heard a sound akin to an air rifle going off, followed by sharp pain in her neck.

"Aah!" America quickly pulled the intrusive object from her neck and saw it was a silver dart with black plumage.

"Oh shit!" Realizing what it was America quickly pulled out Judgement. If she fired a shot someone would hear and come running. But by the time she pulled the gun from her holster he arms felt like a fifty-pound weights.

Her gun fell out of her hand and she dropped with it in seconds. She couldn't move, couldn't speak, her vision was going too.

A boot entered her sight. It kicked away her gun and flipped her over. She saw a shadowy figure, but his face was too much of a blur. The figure removed all her guns and slung her limp body over his shoulder.

America blinked three times before she passed out. Each time Fall's End was getting farther and farther away.

Then all she saw was darkness.


	6. Reaping

'How long have I been here? Since I've felt like this?' America wondered.

It was almost like a lucid dream. Uninhibited, light, almost . . . freeing. But it wasn't. It was just an illusion, the feeling. A meaningless high that would only result in a painful crash. Then you would do it all over again, just to lessen the pain. An endless cycle of numbness.

That's what she felt like right now: numb. Unable to move, to speak, or anything. Just lie here in this field of flowers like a dead corpse. Surrounded by twinkling stars in the dark, cloudy sky.

She had sworn off drugs. Promised on her parent's life—promised to God even. And yet here she was—here she was—here she-?

What was she doing here again?

Her thoughts were interrupted by cultist entering her blurry vision. He looked and pointed at the ground. "This one?" He questioned, his voice muffled and echoed in her ear.

Then a second cultist arrived. He walked around America, looking down at her motionless body. "No, this one." Without even looking he pointed to her.

"Don't seem very worthy." The other guy said skeptically.

"It is not for us to judge. Deliver them unto the waters. The Cleansing begins tonight."

America felt herself being lifted up and hoisted over shoulders. A part of her wanted to fight back, but her eyes felt so tired, so she decided to just sleep first. She'd kick their asses later. This time she welcomed the darkness.

But she was suddenly ripped away from the darkness and struggled to breath. Her eyes stared back at a shadowy face, but it wasn't the drugs in her system. She was under water, staring up at the surface, a man holding her down.

She thrashed, tried to fight the man off, to breathe, but she was too weak and shocked.

"We must wash away our past. We must expose our sins."

America heard a loud, smooth voice come from the surface, but she couldn't quite hear. Nor was she interested as water coursed through her mouth and nose, burning her eyes. She needed air!

The Peggie holding her down finally let her up and she gasped. Spitting out the water and sucking in that sweet, blessed oxygen.

"We must . . . atone! For only then . . ."

Still spitting out water, America heard other people get pulled from the river, coughing as much as her. She regained some focus and saw them get carefully led to . . . John Seed.

The bastard was standing in the river with everyone else. Holding the father's crappy bible and marking crosses on the other folks who were forcefully drowned. America quickly realized this was the cult's "Baptism" that was shown on the vloggers video. A true twisted disgrace of the actual practice.

"May we stand in the light of God. And walk through his Gate . . ." It was now America's turn to be officially baptized. "unto Eden."

America wanted to scream . . . she wanted to curse . . . she wanted to punch that serene smile off the bastard's smug, disgusting face! But whatever drug they gave her made it impossible to even twitch consciously. Whatever she wanted to say came out in a garbled mess. When she tried clenching her fists, they wouldn't respond. All she could do was move where they wanted her too. Like a sheep being led by a dog

"Not this one." John halted her. "This one's not clean."

Like a predator, he ringed her neck and pushed her back down into the water. Once again she struggled to breath, thrashing about, but unable to hit the youngest Seed sibling.

Thankfully, John didn't keep her under for long and pulled her up. She coughed violently while John sighed in contentment. His viscous, pleasant smile never left. Then he tsked in faux disappointment and attempted to put her back under again.

America tried preparing herself this time, but a voice stopped John.

"Do you mock the cleansing, John?"

Fear. That was the emotion clear as day, on John's face. He slowly turned around but did not look. His eyes down casted as if he was afraid to face his brother.

Behind them, waiting on dry land, was Joseph Seed. Dressed in a cotton shirt and leather vest, instead of shirtless like she last saw him.

"No, Joseph—"

"Shh." The Father easily silenced his younger brother. His charisma was as beholding as she remembered. "You have to love them John. Do not let your sin prevent that."

There was a deafening silence between the two. John was as still as a statue. He didn't quiver or anything, but he was like a deer caught in headlights. And Joseph—

"Bring that one to me."

Joseph was as chilling as she remembered.

It felt like she was levitating over to Joseph. The stars in her eyes were blinding and making her vision even blurrier as she was being taken over to Joseph.

The Father held his arms open as if to welcome her and hilariously the van headlights made it look like there was a god-light behind him.

'Why is it I can't meet this guy without a fucking light behind him to make him look like a Godsend?'

Finally reaching the man's embrace. His very touch made her skin crawl and brought back the memory of their first meeting. When she was terrified of this man's imposing presence.

His eyes were locked onto her glassy ones. He was analyzing her. She wanted to look away or punch him, but her body refused to do anything she wanted.

When he spoke it was with no malice or joy. Like she hadn't been stopping his cult for the last 48 hours. Like the last time they met they left on pleasant terms. It was almost inhuman how calm he was.

"Despite all you have done, you are not beyond salvation my child. You are not here by accident or by chance. You are here by the Grace of God. You've been given a gift. Now it remains to be seen whether you embrace it or cast it aside." He finally showed one hint of emotion. Sadness. The thought of her casting aside one of God's gifts saddened him.

'I REALLY want to punch you right now!' America actually felt her hand clench a little.

He finally took away his cold hands from her and turned to John.

Joseph placed his hand on his brother's shoulder. "This one shall reach atonement," he pressed his forehead to John's, "or the Gates of Eden will be shut to you, John."

John solemnly said, "Yes Joseph".

The Father turned and walked away leaving John and America with the other peggie followers. John watched Joseph leave with a melancholic look, which morphed into a determined, frustrated anger the second he turned his attention back on her.

"You will confess every sin you have ever committed, no matter how petty or small." There was some trepidation in his voice. Even some . . . envy? "I will pull them from you and then we'll see if you are worthy of atonement." The way he said atonement was almost scoffing.

'Go to hell, brotherfucker!'

He nodded to the Usher and she was easily taken to the van, along with her fellow baptizies.

The drive was long enough to regain most of her senses and faculties. Whatever drug they gave her had very little lasting power and constant exposure was needed to make her and others as docile as a lamb.

Didn't matter though as she was tied up along with her fellow hostages with an armed Peggie watching them like a hawk. They had the radio blasting their damned chorus music and the worst part? It was pretty catchy.

The captured man sitting next to her suddenly grabbed her arm.

"If we just confess." He whimpered hushly. "If we confess right away we'll be okay right?"

The captured woman sitting across from America answered instead. "No, it'll make it worse" She said bitterly.

"Why?" He nearly cried.

Their guard leaned between them and answered next "Because confession without pain, isn't confession. You'll scream out your sin, then you'll wear it on your flesh, before John peels it off of you. It's a beautiful thing." The man was actually revering such a disgusting exercise.

"Fucking Peggies" The woman growled and this time the guard struck her with the butt of his rifle. The woman cried out, blood leaking down her temple.

"Hey! Pick on someone your own size, coward!" America came to her defense.

The man pushed her against the wall with his forearm and pressed the barrel of his gun right in her face. He gave her an intense glare filled with more hatred then the Father had ever shown her.

"Be silent, murderer." He growled. "You're lucky Father Joseph wants you alive. A lot of us want to put a bullet in you for what you did at Fall's End. Lost a lot of good people . . . including my brother."

She could tell he really wanted to shoot her. It was almost tempting to let him if it meant SOMEONE in the cult would defy Joseph. Almost.

"Did I?" America grunted. "I can't remember. All you ratty-faced sheep look the same." She sneered.

For a second it looked like he would shoot her. His hand was trembling, and his trigger finger looked twitchy. But alas the man took a step back and relaxed by breathing in long intervals. Then like a snake he tried to strike her with the butt of his gun.

Emphasis on tried as she grabbed the rifle and yanked it from his clutched. Then she kicked him in the gut, knocking him to the farside of the van. Idiots still haven't realized that you don't leave peoples arms tied up in the front.

"Hey what's going on back the—!"

The driver never finished his sentence as something crashed into the van and caused them to tumble and careen out of control.

Everyone in the van went flying. Crashing into the walls and floor with painful impact.

Bullets and flowers went everywhere. America saw the two captured civilians smash into the bench and roof. The Peggie flattened on the floor then flattened onto the ceiling.

Then it all came to a stop. The van was upside down, they were all lying on the ceiling. America groaned and slowly opened her eyes and once again she heard a familiar voice. But this one was more welcoming then John's egotistical jabber or Joseph's cold embrace.

"When the Lord your God brings you into the land you are entering to possess and drives out before you many nations . . . then you must destroy them totally."

"Jerome!" America shouted.

Shaking off whatever disorientation she had, the Deputy crawled toward the door and banged on it with her shoulder. She felt someone grab her—the guard! He glared at her and tried leveling his rifle to her face.

"Make no treaty with them!" The door opened, and the guard was shot in the head.

America turned and saw Jerome holding a smoking revolver. "And show them no mercy."

"Jerome!" America chuckled in relief. "Am I glad to see you, Pastor."

"Glad to see you safe as well, America."

The Pastor kneeled down, placing the gun in a cut out compartment in his holy bible. A relieved smile was on Jerome's face. There were shouts then—peggies. He urgently cut her bonds and dragged her out of the van. Then he helped the other two prisoners out, who were confused and bleeding, but would be alright with some medical help.

"Come on! We didn't go through all this trouble just to lose you again." He said with a bemused smirk.

To his side was a familiar redhead. "Well, hey there tough and sexy." Cassidy greeted flirtatiously.

"Cassidy." America grinned. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

She giggled. "You can ogle me later, Deputy. Here. Right now we got to kill some peggies." In Cassidy's arms were all of America's weapons. Fall's Ghost, the Farmhand, Judgement, and her Dad's Knife.

America took her weapons back and stroked her silver and ivory revolver like she was welcoming back an old friend. Then she charged up the hill with Pastor Jerome and the other Resistance Fighters. Their destination was a checkpoint gate, where the Resistance and the cult were already in the middle of a fight.

"Where the hell are we?!" America yelled over the gunfire. She saw snipers up on the gate, their red-dot sights scanning the whole area looking for fighters to shoot. Down below peggies were hiding behind concrete blockades trying to stop anyone from getting past this point.

"The road that leads to John's Bunker. You were lucky we knew where you were headed. Been waiting in ambush for hours!"

America let out a battle cry as she charged toward the enemy. Firing Judgment, she surprised the snipers above until she managed to get to a safe spot behind a rock.

Others, like Jerome and Cassidy also made it to cover. They returned fire, their guns flashing, they shot at anything wearing white. Bullets flew overhead in every direction.

The peggies had the high ground and the snipers managed to take out a few Resistance fighters.

Jerome ducked back into cover, a rifle round grazed his head. He wiped the sweat and blood from his brow and reached into his pocket. It was a grenade he pulled out. Biting off the pin he tossed it over to the peggie's side and warned "Grenade out!"

Everyone ducked when the explosion went off. The screams of some peggies were heard, followed by pained moans of dying cultists.

America switched to her rifle and she and everyone else popped out of cover and opened fire. She managed to get a couple of the snipers on top, while everyone else aimed for the peggies on the ground. Blood erupted from bodies, along with dying breaths.

Headshoting the last sniper on top, America crouched down to reload her rifle.

"More are coming!" Cassidy shouted.

"Bring it on!" America challenged.

Looking down the sight of her rifle, America fired her gun like an old cowboy from a spaghetti western. First Peggie in her sight went down, one shot. Cocking the lever, she fired again, dead Peggie. The next came, downed. Another two came, dead, each one bullet. Sniper up top tried to get her, but a bullet through the brain ended him.

The remaining cultists took cover in the office of the gate, cowering in fear of the Deputy's talents of carnage.

"Deputy!" Jerome called her. He tossed her a grenade and she caught it one-handed.

She freed the pin and tossed it into the gate office, shattering the window. It erupted, spreading shrapnel everywhere and killing the remaining peggies.

Jerome scanned the area and shouted, "Clear!"

All the fighters gathered at the gate. They looted corpses of ammo and any other valuables they had. Jerome stood near the wall and everyone gathered around him as he began to declare their next move.

"Alright everyone, listen up! We got Deputy Jones back." There were a couple of hoots and yips for that, making America smile. Pastor Jerome quieted them down, but he was smiling too.

"But there are still others that have been taken and need our aid. Merle's one of them and we leave no man behind."

"Merle? How'd Merle get caught?" America asked.

"Some of the captured are our hunting parties. They got Merle when they were in the middle of fishing." Cassidy explained.

"They're just up this road." Jerome pointed past the gate. "Deputy, you take Cassidy and a couple others and go save 'em. Me and the others will stay here and guard this position. Keep the cult off you until everyone is rescued."

America pulled back the hammer of her gun. "You got it, Pastor."

"God be with you all." He said.

America brushed her tattoo. "God is always with me."

With full determination, America and her posse ran up the hill. They came across the rest of the convoy, stopped in its tracks from a small rockslide.

"Heh, bastards ain't going nowhere for a while. Wasn't easy setting up that ambush, I'll tell you what." Cassidy said.

"Come on! Let's go get our people."

They all let out a battle cry and attacked the convoy's defenders. It was easier then assaulting the checkpoint gate, the cult didn't have many fighters left. Most died on the first attack and backup was being delayed by Jerome. It wasn't even a fight so much as a slaughter.

They opened up the vans and started liberating the people. America took out her knife, cut their ties and helped them get out of the van. Cassidy went to the other vans and did the same. Some of them still had guards and tried putting up a fight, but they were put down quickly.

When they went through all the vans, they had saved fourteen people.

One of them, named Butch, approached America. She recognized him as one of Merle's people. A resident of Silver Lake Trailer Park.

"Deputy, they got Merle up on that ridge ahead. Ya gotta help him! Don't let the cult take him into their bunker."

"Don't worry. I'll get Merle back." She assured and then turned to Cassidy. "Cassidy, you get everyone here to safety. Tell Jerome to pull out, I'll get Merle."

"Fuck that! You can't take all of them on your own. We just got you back."

"These people take priority."

"We can take care of ourselves, Deputy." Butch insisted. "Cass is right. You don't know how many people will be guarding Merle. Jerome will watch out for us. You just get Merle back."

America looked between Cassidy and Butch, conflicted on what to do. Looking around at everyone else, they seemed to agree with the two. Seeing them all nod and push this made her resign.

"Fine! Cassidy you're with me. Butch get everyone to Jerome."

"You got it Deputy!"

"Let's hustle people!" Cassidy encouraged.

They all split up. America and Cassidy came to the end of the hill and were met by other peggies. Cassidy crouched and fired her AR-C rifle, shooting several in the gut and chest. America unleashed the Farmhand's fury and blasted any Peggie in her way.

That was when they heard a whistling sound. They looked around wondering where it was coming from until their heads turned upward.

There was a "POP" sound and a series of explosions went off in front of them, knocking them back a ways.

Both the girls groaned as they urgently tried to get back up. Their ears were ringing, and the wind was knocked out of them, making them cough sporadically. By the time they could hear properly, they heard the whistling noise again and America desperately tried to pick Cassidy up.

"Come on! Come on, Cassidy! Move—move it!" She shouted and pushed Cassidy into a small cave.

Just in time as another mortar shell fell and exploded in the spot they were just in.

"Deputy, was that a mortar?!" Jerome said over the radio.

"Well it sure as hell wasn't thunder!" She shouted back freakishly.

Another mortar shell fell and exploded. The two covered their heads as the earth shook beneath their feet and sent dirt flying.

"Who knows how far the mortars reach is. You got to take it out Deputy." Jerome said urgently.

"We're working on it." America put her radio away and faced Cassidy. "Okay, Cassidy, listen up. There's a pause in the launching of the mortar. They got to aim, load, and wait for it to reach its target. When the next shell comes, we need to book it as fast as we can."

"And if a shell is coming in our general direction?"

"Then find cover . . . or run faster."

"Great plan." She said sarcastically.

They heard the dreaded whistle.

"Here it comes. Get ready!" They covered their ears and heads.

There was the pop and a series of explosions rocking the ground.

"GO!"

They ran as fast as their legs could carry them. Sprinting to the point their hearts and lungs felt like they would burst. They jumped from ledges and ran under bridges. Then there was a boom in the distance.

"Here comes another one!" America warned.

The sound of a falling shell pierced their ears. It sounded like it was heading in their direction.

"To the bridge, move!"

The whistling was getting louder and louder. They managed to get under the bridge with little time left. America pushed Cassidy against the rocky wall and shielded her. Explosions rang out and America could feel the heat. Rocks were flung against her back, with a particularly large stone bruising her shoulder. The ringing was aggravating her left ear. She couldn't focus on her pain yet.

"Move! Move!" She pushed Cassidy.

They continued their sprint until they came to a cliff that was about a twenty-foot drop. Thankfully though they didn't need to traverse down it as there was a zipline that led to the other side.

Another shell was launched. They didn't hesitate. They kept running, pulling out their hooks and connecting them to the line.

Just in time as the shell exploded close to their position, so they escaped the blast in time.

America felt the wind rush against her face. Her shoulder ached from the bruising she got, but she endured. She made it to the other side and dropped before she hit the cliff face.

She landed perfectly on her feet but got knocked down by Cassidy who wasn't really sure how to stop. The redhead groaned, her head resting on top of America's chest. America grunted and looked down at the beautiful woman resting on top of her.

"Cassidy, get off me. We got to take care of that mortar."

She whined. "Can't I just lie here and die instead. Going out buried in a woman's chest would be my ideal demise."

America blushed, but gave Cassidy a pointed glare. She pushed the woman's face away from and off her body.

"If you can crack jokes like that you can help me kill some peggies." She got up and headed to the cultists up the hill. "We should be out of their range, so let's take care of them."

"Fine." Cassidy pouted tiredly.

They climbed up the hill and found five peggies watching over Merle, with one of them operating the mortar. America and Cassidy looked at each other and pulled out their one-handed weapons, America's revolver and Cassidy's uzi.

The mortar operator was in the middle of aiming the cannon, but Judgement declared a bullet in his brain. The other peggies turned around to see what that gunshot was, but before they could retaliate, Cassidy mowed them down with her submachine gun.

"Deputy!" Merle said ecstatically. "Am I ever glad to see you! You would not believe what I've been through tonight."

America cut his ties and helped the man up. "I can imagine, Merle."

Last time she saw him he was relatively okay, except for the busted arm wrapped in a sling. Now he was sporting some fresh bruises, some red welts and a blackeye on the left side of his face. The Redneck though still had his fiery temper, he was eager to burn the cult with it.

"So, what now?" Merle asked impatiently. "Please tell me we're getting payback?"

"In do time Merle. Now we get the fuck out of here." She activated her radio. "Jerome? Ya there? We got Merle!"

As America was getting things settled with Jerome, Cassidy walked up to Merle with a question.

"So, Merle, why did the cult take you and not every other prisoner with them?" Cassidy asked, curious on why he was the only hostage up here.

"I was high priority. Least that's what they said. I'm one of the Resistance leaders and I lead the Silver Lake community. Guess they wanted to make sure they had one leader taken off their list."

Cassidy pursed her lips and nodded. "That makes sense."

"Okay, Jerome is clear, and the hostages are far away from here. He's sending us a chopper to take us away from here. We just have to hold the line until then."

"Sounds easy enough." Cassidy said.

"So, we're gettin' payback and escaping? Hoo doggy this is the best plan ever!"

"Peggies will be swarming us soon. Merle your arm's still shot, so you operate the mortar."

"With pleasure, Deputy."

"Cassidy, we're exposed out here. You watch the sides, make sure no peggies get through."

"Roger dodger. What about you?"

"I'm going to make sure nothing gets over that bridge." She cocked her lever-action rifle.

Without Jerome and the Resistance stopping reinforcements, the cult would be coming in force. And sure enough they did. Peggies armed with baseball bats and guns started charging. Merle aimed the mortar at the other side of the rope bridge. He dropped a shell and let it fly.

Unfortunately, the peggies saw it coming and got out of the way before it hit. America crouched down to one knee and leveled Fall's Ghost. She fired and hit them square on. Each shot was an instant kill and all the peggies could do in their narrow quarters was either keep running or show her their backs. Either way, they'd be dead before they reached the end of the bridge.

More peggies came on the way. Most of them realized how much of a death trap the bridge was so they went around and over the cliffs and edges. Merle would track them through the scope of the Mortar—lead them and then fire the mortar. Like with America and Cassidy, the shell's whistle would be too much of a warning and many of the peggies would move faster, take cover or turn back. Some wouldn't be able to escape the explosions though and would be obliterated in an instant.

The peggies that didn't take the bridge and were lucky enough to escape mortar fire would climb the ledges that would lead to their position. But they would get an unfortunate surprise in Cassidy, waiting for them with a loaded submachine gun. One spray was enough to kill any climbing peggies.

An explosion rang out on the other side of the area, but it wasn't one of Merle's mortar shells. Cassidy smirked, it was one of her traps. Next to the mortars was a cache of ammo and explosives. One of the explosives was a C4 proximity mine. Before the peggies came running, she set up the mines on a path that was on the eastern side of their location. Seemed some peggies survived Merle's bombings and instead walked into her bombs. After shooting up another pair of cultists she went to replace any of the mines that were triggered. Looking down at the path there were quite a few bloody body parts and screaming peggies that warded off any more advancers.

Fall's Ghost clicked as it reloaded another round in the chamber. It boomed as it fired another bullet into the chest of a fanatical Peggie, knocking him over the rope bridge and plummeting him to his doom. On the other side of the bridge, another storm or mortar fire rained down on a group of peggies, sending them into oblivion.

Bodies were starting to pile up on the bridge now, making it difficult for the reinforcements to get across. The boards were slick with blood and caused two peggies to accidentally slip and fall off to their death. It made America's job easier and allowed her to reload her weapon's limited ammo capacity. All around her she heard explosions, gunshots, and Merle's childish laughter. Her team was really holding their spot, to the point that ten minutes practically breezed by.

"Deputy! Cassidy!" Merle called. "Our rides here!"

She turned around and saw a helicopter in the distance, flying towards them. And it wasn't bearing any cult marks.

"Get ready to get out of here everyone! Finish off any peggies ya see, but don't hesitate to run for the copter."

Soon the helicopter landed down and all three made a run for it. America took a grenade from the cache and tossed it onto the rope bridge. It discharged and blew up the bridge, sending it and the remaining peggies on it to the cold unforgiving ground. Merle launched one last mortar shell before jogging to the chopper. Cassidy finished off any remaining cultists and made a dash for the chopper, but not before leaving a little surprise near the mortar.

They all got in the chopper. Merle took the passenger seat up front and America and Cassidy took the back seats.

The pilot took flight just as some cultists swarmed the area. They fired on the helicopter, but their weapons weren't enough to seriously damage it. One of the them went for the mortar to try and shoot it down, but he activated Cassidy's trap. A proximity mine.

The explosion killed the cultist, wrecked the mortar and inadvertently ignited the ammo cache. The resulting explosion killed any remaining peggies and put on quite a light show.

America looked to Cassidy and the redhead just shrugged playfully.

Merle let out a victorious holler. "Man! My heart is beatin' a million times a minute! Nice save there, Deputy. You really pulled our asses of the fire this time. Who knows what these bastards were gonna do to us."

"I wouldn't have been able to do anything if it weren't for Pastor Jerome and the Resistance" She said humbly. "And you too, Cassidy."

"Shit, if you really want to thank me, how's about a big ol' wet one right here." She tapped her index finger against her right cheek.

America smirked in amusement and decided to give the redhead what she wanted. Much to Cassidy's surprise, America gave her a big ol' smooch. Which resulted in the Redler woman jumping back and blushing.

Before more could be said or done, they heard explosions from down below. Looking out the chopper they saw Peggie trucks on the road, overturned and protecting cultists who were fighting back against the people. Said people were shouting, firing guns, and throwing Molotov cocktails.

The people were realizing they could fight back. That the cult could be stopped.

"They really think they're saving us." Merle said, watching the show down below. "Saving us?! Locked up in that shit hole? Get out of here!" he hawked a loogie out the helicopter and hoped it landed on a peggie. "Those fucking cowards swarmed me. They said they were saving me. Told me to put my trust in the Father. Who the fucks the Father anyway?! They should have put a bullet in my head. Would'a been a kindness—the only kindness they ever done anyone. I was pissed off before. . . now I'm fuckin' furious!"

"Take a chill pill, Merle. You'll get your shot at them when the time comes." Cassidy reassured.

"I don't know how they think they're doing good either, Merle. Honestly if they had just gone into hiding in their bunkers like normal preppers, no one would've batted an eye. Doesn't matter, I guess. We're dealing with them now and we're going to put this entire cult down one way or another."

"Now that's what I like to hear, Deputy!"

"With you on our side, I can't see anyway for us to lose." Cassidy said confidently.

The helicopter arrived at Fall's End and landed on the roof of the garage.

The entire town welcomed them back, with America getting most of the adoration. Even Boomer managed to weave his way through the crowd and pounce on the Deputy to lick her face, making everyone laugh. His tail wagged happily to see her again.

America, Cassidy, and Merle walked over to Jerome and Mary May. She shook the pastor's hand and hugged the bar owner.

Jerome then stepped onto a box so he could look out to the whole crowd. He motioned for them all to quiet down and addressed everyone present.

"My friends . . . tonight we've shown the cult our teeth!" The crowd cheered. "Our claws!" They hoorayed. "We have shown them that we are not a community to be destroyed or subjugated, that we are strong together! That when you strike one of us, we will strike back harder and with more fury then you can possibly imagine! We got Deputy Jones back and liberated more people of Hope County in the process!"

A roar of cheers was the Pastor's reward for such a big speech.

"But it was not without loss." Jerome said somberly, quieting down the crowd. "Many died to liberate those in John's clutches. Miranda, Tony, Henry, Rick, Hans, they died so that others could live. They died to save us . . . to save this community—it's people. Their sacrifice WILL NOT be forgotten."

"Mourn for them everyone." Mary May said passionately. "Like my Dad . . . my Mom . . . m-my Brother . . . but don't let it scare you or discourage you! The dead would not want you to cry forever. They'd want you to keep fighting so that one day our home will be free of the Seed family and their fuckin' cult."

"We didn't start this war!" America spoke next. "John, Joseph, the whole fuckin' family think they're doing us a service. They think they're saving us!" She shook her head. "But they're not. They do this in the name of God? Salvation? Destroying livelihoods, killing families, poisoning our lands? If that's their idea of salvation, then I don't want to know what their version of destruction is."

"Eden's Gate has shown their true colors to the world." She paused to scan everyone around her. "And we just shown them ours. We showed them that we aren't helpless, that we CAN punch back—and by God can we hit them hard! For years they've been pushing you all around, well its time to push back!"

Everyone was agreeing, nodding and shouting "Yeah."

"Time to show them that we are a people that can fight!"

"Yeah!"

"Time to show them that God is not on their side!"

"YEAH!"

"So fight with me!"

"YEAH!"

"Fight to put an end to Joseph Seed and his fanatical cult!"

"YEAH!"

"Fight and make sure that the only Gates they'll be walking to are the black gates of Hell!

"YEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!"

The crowd raised their weapons into the air and cheered to the high heavens. For years the cult had made them scared. Frightened of shadows that would come into the night and kill them or steal them away to be brainwashed to serve the psychopathic Seed Family.

Now they were empowered. There was nothing stopping them, just like there was nothing stopping the cult. Well now they would be the ones to stop the cult. With leaders like Jerome and Mary May to guide the way and someone like Deputy Jones to give them hope, they truly believed that the cult's days were numbered.

Off in the distance, at the Seed Ranch, John was sitting on his porch, nursing a crystal glass of tea. His thoughts were a mix of his brother and the deputy that caught his attention. He could hear the celebrations coming from Fall's End.

He took a sip of his tea and then impulsively threw it at the ground, shattering the glass. It was days like these that he wished Joseph didn't outlaw alcohol. He could really go for a bourbon.

John combed his fingers through his hair stressfully. He lost the deputy and failed to save the others. He failed Joseph. That was both disheartening and terrifying. And it was all that Deputy Jones' fault!

What did his brother see in her? What was so special about her that he was willing to keep him out of paradise if she didn't join them? She was nothing! Just an outsider, not even born in Hope County. She was just another sinner that didn't believe in Joseph's cause, that was blind to the world burning around them! If it weren't for Joseph he would have killed that fucking deputy and display her flayed skin for all to see. If it weren't for Joseph he would have killed most of those sinners and scared them into joining, instead of rounding them all up like a bunch of spooked cattle. If it weren't for Joseph—

"No! No. No. No." He couldn't think like that. Joseph was never wrong. "Forgive me Father for my doubt."

He pulled out a cat o' nine tails and walked out into the middle of his home. He removed his shirt, exposing his tattooed frame and fell to his knees. He clutched the multi-tailed whip and then began flogging his own back.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned." Whip! "Forgive me Father for my failure." Whip! "Forgive me for my doubt." Whip! "For my failure." Whip! "I swear to you I will not fail again!" Whip! Whip! Whip!

John dropped the whip and fell to his hands. Breathing through his nose, he remembered what he was taught and accepted the pain.

"Yes." He breathed. He got up and looked out into the distance, staring in the direction of the den of wolves.

"Yes. The Father is always right. I'll get the Deputy back . . . and I'll pull every last disgusting sin from her cold, tainted body. I will make sure she atones. They will ALL atone, whether in this life or the next."

He heard the so-called Resistance call their Reaping a war. That's not what it was. It was a rapture. It was Joseph saving them! And they dare to deny his kindness?! Slap away his offered hand?! Refuse his paradise?!

Well fine.

"If it's a war they want. It's a war they'll get."


	7. The Sharpshooting Soldier

**The Inquisitor**

It's a beautiful day outside. The birds are singing. Flowers are blooming. Cultists were harmonizing to their chorus music, while patrolling the Seed Ranch. Truly, a beautiful day indeed for a big breakfast with the ones you love.

Inside the ranch was the whole Seed family. Together, having a full breakfast. Complete with eggs, bacon, toast, fruit, cold milk, hot coffee, ham and hashbrowns. All made and served by John himself. The Seed's would usually have some of their followers join with them, but it had been so long since the family was together that they decided to keep the meal exclusive.

On one side was John and Faith and on the other side was Joseph and Jacob. John's plate consisted of eggs, hashbrowns, bacon and toast, with a glass full of milk. On Faith's plate was fruit and nothing else. She ate light and had an empty glass. Jacobs plate was all meat, bacon, ham, eggs, with a cup of black coffee that was half empty. And on Joseph's plate was everything John had made. Since it would likely be a long time before they can share another meal like this, he wanted to savor and appreciate everything his baby brother made.

Outside the oaken walls you wouldn't think a war was going on. That people were fighting for their lives and risking everything to see tomorrow. The Seeds laughed, they joked, they shared, they told stories . . . they looked like a normal, everyday, loving family.

Shame they were anything but.

"So, Faith, how's our dear friend the Marshal faring?" Jacob asked nonchalantly as he bit off a piece of bacon.

"Excellent!" Faith said chipperly. "Cameron felt so unfulfilled. He was so empty inside before coming to us. Now," she giggled, "now he's so full of faith and is all the happier for it."

Jacob let out a gruff chuckle. "I underestimated you Faith, I thought the Marshal was made of sterner stuff. Guess he's nothing like the Sherriff."

Faith pouted. "Don't tease me like that, Jacob. It was all Tracey's fault. Her and that useless Mayor. Were it not for them Sherriff Whitehorse would have become a part of our family."

"You'll get 'em. These so called "authorities" are nothin'. My guy, Deputy Pratt, heh heh, already starting to break."

"How wonderful!" Faith clapped her hands together. "I'm sure he'll make a great addition to the army."

Jacob sniffed. "Maybe. If not—" he stabbed his ham with his knife, "we could always use more meat."

"Please, Jacob, let me handle the gathering of food." John said mockingly.

"And how's that going?" Jacob tested. "I've heard things. Stories about a Deputy that took Fall's End from you."

"It's nothing to be concerned about, it's being handled." John tried to dismiss. "Speaking of Deputies, the one in my possession seems to be stronger then anticipated. She's refused to confess her sins even after I—"

"I heard you lost Deputy Jones, John."

Joseph's cold voice seemed to kill the joyous mood in the house. Whatever warmth that was spread through the room by their familial acts was erased completely as if it never existed. Jacob seemed indifferent to the sudden deathly silence, but Faith was looking between her two brothers nervously.

John swallowed his spit to wet his throat before speaking. "Yes, Joseph." He answered timidly, unable to hide any truth.

"And other people you had Cleansed in our holy waters. She . . . and others "liberated" them?"

"Yes, Joseph."

"I see."

"B-but I'll get them back! Especially the Deputy! It is just a slight set back. I'm already working on bringing all of Holland Valley to heel. I just need a little time and the people—Deputy Jones—will follow in your light."

"I'm glad to hear that, John." Joseph smiled. It was the most hollow smile to ever be conceived.

"I will not let you down, Joseph. I will not bring any more shame to our family."

"We know you won't little brother." Jacob said. "Your smart and clever. The people don't know how lucky they are to have you. Heck, if you'd like I can give you a few of my Judges. They should make it easy to hunt down your prey."

"I—yes, that would be helpful." John was touched by his brother's offer.

Faith was absolutely enthused. "Yes! If you'd like John, I can lend you some of my angels as well. I have so many I don't know what to do with." She giggled. "With Jacob's judges and my angels I'm sure you'll finish your reaping before the Collapse arrives."

"No."

Once again the room was forced into silence. A single word commanded from Joseph.

"Joseph?" Faith said with trembling shoulders.

"No. This is Johns task. He and he alone must accomplish it with his own two hands. The Chosen may be utilized by all of you, but that's it. John must use his own men and resources."

"B-but—but . . ." Faith tried, but the words could only be stuttered out.

"Joseph." Jacob started cautiously. "I'm a believer in self-reliance and discipline as much as the next man. But this is a war. Don't you think that John could use all the help he can get? Especially if it means he can take Holland Valley faster and easier."

"Only the heathens call it war, Jacob." Joseph's voice, recognizably, went up one decibel. "To the Project of Eden's Gate, it is a rapture. It is rescuing the misguided before God's mighty wrath wipes the slate clean and sends them all to the great beyond."

"Regardless, my point still stands." Jacob persisted.

"John is to have no help from anyone outside Holland Valley. Not you," he looked to Jacob, "and not you." He looked to Faith. "This is a test from God, John. You must prove to him that you are capable and strong. Prove that you are worthy of leading the new world after the Collapse. And if you are not . . ." The Father stood up from his seat.

John hung his head. "Yes, I know, Joseph."

"Then it is settled. I know you won't let me down, John." He reached over the table and grasped his brother's hand. "You . . . you will succeed."

"Yes."

He let go of John's hand. "This was a lovely dinner, John. I hope we can have another one like it in the future." Joseph made his leave.

Jacob stood up next. "Sorry, little brother. Joseph's word and all that. But you're strong. You can kick these weakling's asses into line, no sweat."

That got a weak smirk out of John. "Thank you, Jacob."

The elder brother nodded and made his way out.

Faith still stuck around a bit longer. Like john her head was downcasted, but her eyes were hidden by her golden locks. After a moment of silence between them, Faith let out a choked sentence.

"I-I'm sorry, John." She whined.

"Don't be. This . . . this is all part of the Father's plan. He's . . . he's making me better. Helping me atone for MY sins. The Deputy is the key . . . for some reason. I don't know why, but it's not my place to question him! I'll do whatever he says. Whatever he needs!"

While John ranted, Faith bit her lip and tried very hard not to say anything. She loved John, but John loved Joseph more.

She stood up, making her chair screech against the polished floor. It got John's attention and he quickly stood up. They stood in front of each other, almost awkwardly.

Then Faith opened her arms up. John did the same and they embraced.

"I won't abandon you." Faith whispered into his ear. "Look to your bunker."

Before John could say anything, they broke apart and Faith walked out. Leaving John alone in the big house to plan and plot against the Resistance. Unaided.

Outside, Joseph and Jacob were waiting for Faith. The Father had actually collected them all himself, flying to each of their regions just to have a nice family breakfast with them all. Now it was time to return them to complete their assigned reaping.

Faith passed by a bloody man tied to two posts, a VIP who had failed John. Least that's what she heard. Ultimately ignoring the suffering man, Faith continued her walk toward her "brothers."

"What took you so long, Faith?" Joseph asked.

"Nothing, Joseph. Just giving John a blessing of good luck before he goes off to deal with those pesky heathens."

Joseph stoically stared at the young woman. After about a minute of uncomfortable silence he said, "I see."

They all turned away from the ranch and entered the helicopter.

John walked out of his home and watched his family fly away. When they were so far gone that they were nothing but a speck, John approached the restrained and tortured VIP.

"Hello, Roger. And how are you this fine day?"

Roger was the VIP in charge of guarding the Widowmaker. He was also the one responsible for stealing it from right under the Fairgrave patriarch's nose. Most of the cult was too afraid to go anywhere near the Spread Eagle, Fall's End in general, in fear of that monster of a truck. Not even the threat of John's punishment was enough to convince them to risk their lives for it.

And that's where Roger came in. You couldn't tell from his greying beard and shaggy mop of hair, but he was actually in his twenties. Underneath all that messy hair was a good-looking face. To earn a spot among the cult elite he took it upon himself to do what no one else was brave enough to do.

More then a year ago, he seduced the daughter, Mary May, and slowly earned her trust for about a month. One night he got her drunk and convinced her to show off her father's truck. He succeeded in getting the keys and when Mary wasn't looking, he drove off with the Widowmaker and presented it to John. The Baptist was so pleased he personally crowned Roger with the Bliss Thorn Crown.

And now that crown laid broken in front of him.

"J-J-John . . ." Roger wheezed.

"Shh-shhh-sshhh." He gave the man some water from a bowl.

"T-thank you." He gasped.

"You're welcome. Do you know why I'm doing this, Roger?"

"Because I lost the Fairgrave's Widowmaker."

"Yes. And?"

"B-because I f-failed the Father." He quivered.

"Yes. That's right." John rested his hands on Roger's head. "But I've talked it over with Joseph and he's willing to forgive you for your failure."

The absolute joy on Roger's face made John feel so powerful.

"But you must pay tribute for your failure. In your blood and others."

"Yes, John. Anything for the Father."

John pulled out his knife and leaned in to cut—"

"John! John!"

"What is it, Lonny? Can't you see I'm in the middle of something?" John said irately. He hated being interrupted when he was saving someone's soul.

"Apologies, my Herald." He bowed his head. "But we found Grace Armstrong."

That was pleasant news to John's ears. "Where?"

"Hold up in the Lamb of God Church." Lonny informed him.

"Tch! I knew I should have burnt that place down when I scared off that useless priest. Send some men out and bring her back to her house. I want everything she has."

"Yes, John. And afterwards?"

"I'm sure she has some sins that need to be confessed."

Lonny nodded and left to go prepare for the assault. John returned his attention to Roger and proceeded to cut off Roger's ear. Roger, in turn, accepted the pain. This was his atonement.

 **The Lawwoman**

America let out a long, tired yawn.

"We boring you America?" Mary May teased.

"No, no, sorry guys." She yawned deeply again. "I-I just didn't get enough sleep last night."

"I suppose you did have a lot going on. Gettin' captured by John Seed and being forcefully baptized would make anyone restless."

"Yeah. Yeah I suppose." She didn't want to let them know she had another nightmare. She took a sip of her coffee to chase the tiredness away. "Where were we?"

"We were saying now that we've got the roads cleared, we can finally think about retaking some key locations."

"Lay it on me."

"Well, we've already taken Gardenview, thanks to you Deputy. Doug and Debbie are watching over the place and will be shipping us some food later. But the key locations we need to take still are Sunrise Farm, Kellett Cattle Co., and US Auto. Those are our top priorities." Mary explained.

"I'll be taking the US Auto today." America said. "With the Peggie convoys totaled we can seriously cripple their movements if we capture their only source to repair vehicles."

"Wish I could be a part of that assault." Merle lamented. "But n

"Might not be their only source." Jerome said.

"What do you mean?"

Jerome pointed to a location on the far eastern side of Holland Valley.

"Our scouts say they've been seeing a lot of activity coming from the Copperhead Rail Yard. Lots of Peggie vehicles carrying scrap into the place. Fuel tankers coming in and out. Noises of powertools and metalworking coming from the warehouse from dusk to dawn, but it's unknown what the peggies are working on."

"It's too heavily guarded. No one can sneak in to get a good look." Mary said.

America hummed. "Keep our scouts watching the Rail Yard and keep in constant contact. Tell 'em don't take any unnecessary risks. They see something bad, they report it immediately and get the hell out of there."

"Agreed." Mary nodded.

The Resistance Leaders continued talking about other locations. The Green-Busch Fertilizer Co. That place was being used to create explosives and process and store their bliss-infused fertilizer. The Seed Ranch. That place was the den of the whole Seed Family, but only John was living there now. It had its very own airfield where they assumed all the Chosen was coming from. That place was a top priority, but they couldn't risk an attack. It was too heavily fortified.

America walked out of the Spread Eagle, a hot cup of coffee in hand and an active Boomer by her side. A single sip rejuvenated her somewhat and chased away the sleep.

Looking to the east the sun was still coming over the horizon. She hated getting up early, but this sight always made it worth it. She just wished nightmares weren't the reason for arising so early.

"Good morning."

Turning her head, America was joined by Cassidy. The redhead took a seat right next to the Deputy.

"Good morning." America greeted back tiredly.

"Up pretty early aren't ya?"

"I could say the same for you, Cass."

"I've always been an early riser. Get more time out of your day by waking up early."

"Can't deny that." America took a sip of her coffee.

"So, what's on the agenda today?"

"With the blockades and convoys decimated we can move a bit more freely now. We can reach out to people that need our help, liberate locations under cult control, and hunt with little fear of Peggie ambushes." She took another sip of her coffee, relishing its warmth. "You?"

"Papa is sending me out to fetch another lighter. Somewhere up north in a cabin."

"Need someone to watch your back?"

"Thanks for the offer, but no thanks. I fly solo."

"Doesn't hurt to have someone watching your back."

"Yeah, but I move better on my own. You though could use someone like that."

"Hm?"

"Well, John's gunning for you the most right? If I were you I'd find some of the biggest, toughest badasses around and have them protect you while you're tearing the cult a new one."

"That's what Boomer's for." She looked own at the cute mutt.

"Bark!" Boomer was pleased to be recognized for his hard work.

"Yeah, but he can't pull a trigger and drive a car. No offense Boomer, you'r a very good boy."

"Bark!"

"You've had my back a few times now." America pointed out.

"Yeah, but that's more because I like watching your ass. It's nice to look at."

America laughed heartily. Cassidy just smiled, enjoying the Deputy's revelry.

"Thanks, Cassidy. I needed that."

"Sure thing." She lightly shoulder bumped her. "But I am serious. You should think about hiring some guns to help you in a fight or just to guard you. So something like what happened before doesn't happen again." She referred to when John's men first captured her.

"I'll think about it."

"Good girl. Now if you'll excuse me. I have to go get an old lighter for my Papa."

America watched her leave until she rounded the corner. She then chugged down the rest of her coffee and headed for the garage to get a car.

"Come on, Boomer. Let's go start up some new trouble today."

"Bark! Bark!"

Hitching a ride on a pickup truck, America, Boomer, and four other fighters headed to the US Auto. With most of their vehicles destroyed by the Widowmaker, a lot of cultists were hunkering down at the junkyard. Waiting for their trucks and vans to be repaired so they could go out reaping again.

It was exactly where she wanted them.

"Are ya'll in position?" America whispered through her radio.

"Yes, ma'am. Waiting on your signal."

"There are about fifteen peggies, fellas. After I take care of their radios and thin the herd a bit, you all come rushing in."

"You sure you can sneak through them all, Deputy?"

"We'll see. Going silent."

America crouched down and hid behind the tall grass and bushes. Boomer was by her side crouched as well. He had already scouted out the place and alerted her to every Peggie he could sense. Even sniffing out a few hostages locked inside the shipping containers. So, they didn't need to worry about casualties if things went sideways.

While the Peggies were idle, the bastards were listening to a broadcast on some large amps in the backs of their trucks. Whether it was live or recorded, she didn't know, but what she did know was the two voices coming through them.

John Seed and Deputy Hudson.

The Bastard Baptist was broadcasting his torture sessions of Deputy Hudson for all of Holland Valley to hear. The screams and audible sounds coming from Joey made America cringe and want to bodily harm the nearest living thing. So that's what she did.

Reaching over some barrels, America dragged a cultist behind them and stomped her boot against his face. Coast was clear now, she advanced.

The garage was busy inside, with several of the cultists working underneath the vehicles and going back and forth between different projects.

Stealthily, she made her way behind the garage. Cultists were guarding the crates or gathering parts from the rundown cars. The signal radio she was looking for was right on the outside corner of the garage. Sticking to the shadows and hiding behind junk, she snuck through.

Just as she made it to the radio a Peggie walked right in front of her.

"Huh? What the-!"

America struck him twice, knocking him out. She stuffed his body in a tool container and proceeded to mess with the cult's radio. Pulling out pliers she snipped some wires and deactivated the whole thing. For added measure, she left a little present for anyone thinking about calling for help.

Now she had to get the last one and it was in the middle of a bunch of idle peggies.

'How am I supposed to get to that without causing a scene?'

Backtracking America returned to her spot among the plants and pondered her next move. The sound of Boomer's jingling collar when he scratched drew her attention and gave her an idea.

"Boomer?"

The dog looked up at her quizzically.

Two peggies were hanging out near the emergency radio. They were shooting the shit, acting like nothing big was happening in their quaint little valley.

"And then I stabbed my staff right through his heart. Ha! Sinner's eyes nearly bulged out and his dying breath was the most pathetic thing you've ever heard." He tried to imitate the sound, poorly.

"That's nothin'." His buddy waved away. "Saw a pair of sinners on the road. Asked them if they'd like a ride. Me and Rufus got out of the car and, get this, one of them pulls a gun on us!" They both chuckled. "It was the female. Her hand was shaking and everything."

"So, what'd ya do?" The cultist asked, amused by the story.

"I just talked to her, slowly approached and when I was in grabbing distance, I took her gun and smacked her with it."

"Hehehe!"

"We got'em both tied up, but the guy was bein' real mouthy, saying all this bad shit about Father Joseph."

His buddy became serious now, all hint of amusement wiped away. There was no laughing matter when it came to the Father. "What'd you do?"

"What'cha think I did? Shot the blasphemer in the head is what."

"Good man!"

"Girl wouldn't stop crying though, so we knocked her out and threw her in the back, then we—"

"What the?"

The two were interrupted when they saw Boomer looking up at them.

"Who's dog is that?"

"Don't know. Might be a stray. Lot of them around since the Father declared the Reaping."

"What's that in his mouth?"

Indeed, Boomer was carrying something blockish and white in his mouth. He set it down near them and ran off. Confused, the two peggies crouched down to analyze it.

"Wait, isn't that a . . ."

He would never finish that sentence. In fact, neither of the two would ever say anything again, because the white block was a remote C4 bomb. And America flipped its switch, destroying the two and the last radio.

That was the signal to attack the outpost. While the peggies were confused by the explosion, the Resistance rolled in on their trucks, armed to the teeth.

One of the peggies went for the last emergency radio but was killed by America's explosive boobytrap.

It was pandemonium now for the cult. The surprise attack caught them all off guard. The Resistance mowed them down after running a few down with their vehicles. Some took cover among the scrap, but America and Boomer flanked them, pushing them out and back into the line of fire. Before anyone knew it, the fight was over. The US Auto was liberated.

America helped release the hostages from the containers. Using bolt cutters, she and the other members cut the chains keeping the hostages inside. Many of them were in bad shape, beaten, starved and dehydrated from being sealed inside the hot crates. One container even had a wild black bear inside, feasting on two civilian corpses. They put the beast down and buried the bodies.

When all the prisoners were free America watched the Resistance repaint or tear apart Peggie vehicles, taking their parts for their own cars. Coming up the driveway, she saw a familiar face in the truck.

Stepping outside the Auto store, America acknowledged the handlebar moustache wearing redneck.

"Deputy!" Merle greeted with an open arm. "Nice work on the assault. Not a single casualty on our side."

"That's right and a bunch of casualties on the peggies."

"Ha ha! That's what I like to hear! Soon my Death Wish will be all fixed up. Wish I could have been there to take the place myself, but the doctor said 'No unnecessary stress or your arm won't heal.' Thanks for doing this Deputy. I could just kiss ya."

"You're not my type Merle. No offense." She said in wry refusal.

"I got the breasts for it don't I?" He grabbed his man boobs.

"Yeah, but one too many additions." She pointed south, making Merle laugh.

"Yeah, I ain't no Cassidy Redler." He winked, making America blush. "So, give it to me straight, what's the results? Jerome's gonna want a whole report on this."

"We got enough vehicles and car parts to keep us strong on the road. Weakened Peggie strength in maintaining their vehicles. Gonna need a shit ton of gasoline though."

"I'll get that info to Mary. I'm sure she'll think of something. Anything else?" Merle said.

"Saved about five hostages. Couple of them former workers here. Two dead though—peggies fed 'em to a bear."

"Bastards."

"Speaking of, we got a couple live ones."

"Really?"

She motioned for Merle to follow and brought him to the peggies they managed to capture. Three of them were restrained to wooden posts, with their hands tied behind them. They were bloody and bruised, but fine. They were of varying ages. One was an old man in his eighties, the second was in his early forties, and the last was young, probably eighteen or nineteen years old. Two fighters and Boomer were watching over them.

"Well, well, well." Merle said. "How's it feel to be on the other side of the torture session, Peggie fucks."

They remained silent.

"What, nothing to say?" Merle goaded. "No biting words like "sinner" or "blasphemer?" You peggies are always the talkative types."

Still more silence.

America decided to give this a try. "If you're wondering why we haven't killed you like the rest of your lot, I want information."

"We'll tell you shit, sinner." The old man spat. "Isn't that right boys?"

"So, they can talk." Merle scoffed.

"That's right, Martin. Isaac?" The second eldest turned his head to the youngest cultist.

"Y-yes, Hank. We w-won't talk." The youngest said, clearly afraid.

America took out her knife and held it in a way that garnered the attention of the prisoners.

"I don't want to hurt you. But I will if I can't get anything out of you. The unfortunate part is fellas, is that we have no way of detaining you. So, there's really only two ways out of your situation. One: I slit your throats and move on with my day or you walk out of here after giving me something I can use against Eden's Gate and the Seeds." She kneeled down to look them all at eye-level. "So, what is it going to be? Die pointlessly or live to fight another day?"

Merle's hand latched onto America's shoulder. "Deputy you can't be seriously thinking of letting them go." He said heatedly.

"I am."

"They wouldn't do the same for us!"

"Which is why I'm doing it. We are not them, Merle. We're better."

"We are the followers of God's chosen man." Spat Martin. "And you are filthy sinners who refuse to see the truth that the Father brings to light."

"Oh boy, here we go." Merle said exasperatedly, covering his face with his hand.

"Can't you see how pointless your struggle is? Joseph and his family are only trying to help us! Help you! The Collapse is upon us and all this fighting is doing nothing but slowing progress."

"I've heard this all before." America harshly stated. "Your bullshit is starting to get irksome. Give me something new."

"We only repeat it because you refuse to heed our words." The youngest cultist spoke.

"Isaac is correct. You don't learn—none of you learn! So, we beat it into you and if you still don't learn through pain, then we grant you the mercy of death."

"Mercy?" America asked quietly.

"Yes, mercy." Martin nodded. "For when the Collapse finally arrives, the ones who refused the Father will not suffer during the chaotic turmoil that is to come."

"You think . . . you're merciful?"

"Is a case of deafness going around? YES! What we do is for the good of all—MMF!"

America launched her hand out and gripped the man's mouth tight. Martin's words had triggered a rage inside her and she could no longer stand listening to this old fool.

Lifting his head up, America took out her knife and swiped it across the old man's neck. Blood poured out of his jugular like a waterfall.

Behind her America could hear a variety of reactions. Gasps, sighs, startled yelps, and approving hums. Merle was one of the people who approved of her action, but he gave America a look that was a combination of worry and caution.

"Martin!" Hank yelled out desperately. He and Isaac watched as the life was slowly drained out of the old man.

Martin thrashed about, kicking his legs up, but ultimately unable to do anything. Everyone watched for a whole minute as the ruby liquid life poured out of Martin. Beyond a minute, the old man had become still and his eyes turned glassy and hollow.

America was trembling, seething with rage. Her knife creaked from how tight her hand was gripping her Dad's knife.

"For once, just once, I didn't want to kill any prisoners today. But you fucking cultists just make it so hard." She ground her teeth.

"You killed him! You killed Martin in cold blood you heartless bitch!" Hank screamed.

"Tell me what I want to know or you'll join him." Her knife pointed at him.

"I won't tell you shit! When John gets his hands on you I hope he pulls out each and every life you've taken and—MMF!"

Once again America silenced the Peggie and slit his throat. Hank coughed and gagged and tried spewing more curses, but he couldn't. Like Martin he thrashed around like an animal and died from blood loss a minute later.

"Jesus, Deputy." Merle said under his breath, intimidated by her mercilessness.

America pointed her knife at the youngest Peggie now. Her knife gleamed a bright red from the blood.

"Now, you . . ."

"I-I-I don't know anything!"

"Then what's the point of keeping you alive." She made a reach for him, but then he screamed.

"Wait! Wait! I-I know one thing—Grace Armstrong!" That name caused her to stop and everyone else paid close attention.

"What about her?"

"Th-they found Grace Armstrong. She's at the Lamb of God Church. John's sending men out there to flush her out."

America leaned in close, face-to-face. "Are you telling the truth?"

"Yes! Yes! I swear to God, Father Joseph, and-"

"Swear to me!" She roared.

"I swear! I swear! I swear!"

Still holding the kid's face close, she brought the knife nearer to him. Pressing it slightly against his neck, drawing a bead of blood. The kid was now hyperventilating, and America was certain he pissed his pants.

America then removed the knife at such a fast pace people that she slit the kid's neck. Much to Isaac's relief she didn't and just pointed her weapon at a truck full of scrap metal.

"What is Eden's Gate doing with all that scrap metal? A lot of it has been coming out of this place and going in to the Copperhead Rail Yard. That and a ton of gasoline."

"I-I-I don't know." He quivered.

America squeezed his neck. "Don't lie to me." She growled.

"I'm not! I swear to—you! I'm not a part of that project. Martin was. All I can tell you is that the project is called 'The Revelator.'"

America held her choke hold for a while longer. She stared into his eyes seeking any kind of deception. But all she saw was her reflection—her face—it was intense. All there was in his eyes was fear, understandably.

She finally let go and walked around the boy and cut his ties. "Alright kid, get out of here. You've earned your freedom. And you better hope we don't meet again."

Isaac didn't wait to see them change their minds and sprinted off out of the US Auto. No one stopped him. They all just watch him run off, back to wherever there were peggies or just somewhere to hide.

"I'll head over to Lamb of God. Scope it out. If it's not a trap I'll call you guys." America said staring ahead.

"You got it Deputy." Merle responded automatically.

America whistled and Boomer came to her side.

"Dep, you okay?" Merle finally racked up the courage to ask. "That was uhh, a little intense."

"I'm fine." She said curtly and that was the end of it. Taking a car, America headed in the direction Grace Armstrong supposedly was.

The Lamb of God Church was not far from the US Auto. Probably half a mile at most. It made her wonder if the forces at US Auto were supposed to be the ones to assault Grace.

When she arrived at the little church, she was astounded to see the aftermath of a battle. A bunch of dead peggies littered the ground. Their blood splattered everywhere. On the welcome sign of the church, that usually had an inspirational proverb, said "Souls don't harvest themselves."

America and Boomer got out of the car and cautiously move toward the church. Most of the enemies seemed dead and Boomer wasn't making any noise, but she wasn't taking any chances. Approaching a truck, Judgment raised, she found a Peggie still in the driver seat. Opening it made the body fall out and reveal a bullet wound to the head.

Slowly walking through the grave, she found many cultists with the same injury. A bloody hole in the head, with only a couple with bodily shots in them. Boomer sniffed the bodies and whined curiously.

To say America was impressed wouldn't cut it. She was great shot and she was getting better with Fall's Ghost every time she used it, but this was masterly. A whole other level.

America made it half way through the graveyard before she suddenly stopped. A green dot shakily crawled up her body and stopped on her head.

"Ah shit."

"Identify yourself!" A deep, rough voice yelled from atop the church.

"My name is Deputy Jones!" She quickly said to who she assumed was Grace Armstrong.

"There's no law around these parts anymore." Grace threw back. "Case you hadn't notice."

America looked down at the fresh bodies.

"I'm bringing order, not law. That can come after we kick Joseph a new one."

"You still haven't told me why you're here."

"I'm from Fall's End. Got word you were in trouble. Came to help."

For a while there was no response. The dot still remained on her forehead. America was curious if the woman was too far gone and would shoot her on sight.

Then the dot fell and America slouched her shoulders in relief. She walked over to the main entry of the church, just as a rope was thrown from the bell tower.

"Come on up!"

Gripping the rope and placing her feet in the proper setting on the wall, America climbed up the side of the church. She grunted with each pull and tug. She wasn't much of a climber, but she did have great upper body strength.

Making it to the top, America clasped Grace's hand, who helped her into the tower.

Grace looked exactly as she did on TV and on the billboards. Dark skin, raven hair tied in a ponytail, with a hat on top, wearing eye black on her cheeks, decked out in camouflage, a bullet-proof vest, and a tattered American flag cloth around her neck.

In her arms was an AR-CL rifle, with tan, red, and green camo painted on it. Outfitted with a collapsible stock, Bowden sniper-scope model 3, M-LOK handguard, compensator, and a Magpul PMags.

"So, you're the deputy I've been hearing about?" The soldier gave her a once over. "Can't say I'm impressed."

America frowned. "Looking impressive doesn't kill peggies."

That got a small, almost nonexistent, smirk from the woman. "True enough."

"Why are you out here, Ms. Armstrong?"

"Call me Grace." She insisted. Judging from her tone there was no arguing. "As for what I'm doing here—protecting these graves from the peggies."

Grace took a step past the Deputy and looked out over the graves.

"See those graves down there." She pointed to the mausoleums draped with American Flags. "A couple of war heroes are buried here. My Pops included. But the peggies are trying to defile them. Trying to erase our history, demoralize us. Get us to break so we'll roll over." She scoffed. "Not on my watch. Ain't no motherfucker's gonna touch my Pop's grave while I'm still breathing."

America took a step and stood side to side with Grace. She looked down at the graves too.

"The peggies really don't take kindly to military types. Saw an example like this when I helped Wendell Redler and his granddaughter."

"You saved them?" She asked almost casually.

"Yeah, though they hardly needed it. Held their own as much as you did from what I see. But they're much safer in Fall's End then in an old house in the middle of nowhere."

Grace nodded, then like a switch, she was on high alert. She pulled the binoculars hanging around her neck to her eyes and saw a bunch of Peggie vehicles speeding down the road.

"Shit, these fuckers don't know when to quit." She handed the binoculars to America, who peered through them next.

"Maybe so, but if we kill enough of them there won't be enough left to learn it."

"We? You're gonna help."

"I'm an officer of the law, Grace." She pulled out Fall's Ghost. "And I'm bringing order back."

America grabbed the rope and slid down to the ground. Boomer was waiting for her and growling at the approaching peggies. Reaching into her bag she pulled out two bricks of C4.

She placed the plastic explosives near the steps and then got into hiding.

The peggies arrived in swarms. Showing up in groups of four or five. Some came from the east in the fields and others from the south in the forest.

As soon as the eastern peggies crossed the road, they may as well have worn big red targets on their heads. Grace's gun discharged and a Peggie fell dead.

"One down!" Grace declared.

Peggies ran for cover, but not before Grace headshot another one, splattering his blood on the pavement.

They retaliated, firing at Grace, who hid behind the beams. America popped out of cover and fired Fall's Ghost. Realizing the Deputy had joined up with the sharpshooter, the peggies hunkered down and did not come up for air.

This was perfect timing as peggies started coming in from the south, trying to flank the two. America whirled around and fired her rifle. She got one in the chest, killing him. Cocking the gun, she fired again and got a headshot. The third went down with two rounds to the torso.

Boomer rushed after the eastern peggies and flushed them out. He grabbed one by the arm and pulled them out of cover where Grace and America finished them off. Boomer continued to be a good boy and repeated the process.

The remaining southern peggies were finished off by Grace and her sniper skills.

"That was some good shooting, Deputy Jones."

"Thank you."

"But you're too tense. Try to relax your right arm and don't grip the gun too closely. Your aim won't be so wonky then."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You'll get a chance to test it. Peggie trucks incoming."

Sure enough peggies came rolling in in their white pickup trucks. Much to her surprise, a flamer hopped out of the back.

"Fuck, Flamebearers." Grace cursed.

"What?" America said confused.

"That's what the cult call those flamethrower wielding assholes. Flamebearers. Heard one of them get called that outside my house right before they burned it down."

"Good to know." She let a cultist get near and then she struck with her knife.

She stabbed a cultist in the stomach and fired her silver revolver. She unleashed four shots and got each Peggie with a single bullet.

"Nice shooting." Grace said actually impressed with her gunslinging.

America was going to thank her, but she had to dive into cover before she was filled with lead.

"Boomer!" She whistled.

The mutt went around and pounced on a cultist who was the farthest from the group. He ripped into the peggie's neck, making him scream out before going silent. Boomer then quickly ran away when a cultist tried to run to his friend's aid. He was too late of course, but he didn't have to mourn long as Grace finished him with a bullet to the brain.

America unloaded six rounds in the Flamebearer's body, but his armor was tough. Even his mask absorbed a bullet. He pulled the trigger and America could feel some of her hair get singed. She backed up several feet, but secretly she was leading him.

"Deputy what are you doing?! Don't let'em near the graves!" Grace berated and tried aiming her rifle.

"Hold on Grace! Save your ammo."

"What for?" She said incredulously.

Her answer came in the form of an explosion, killing the flamebearer on the steps.

"I rigged some traps on the steps."

A second explosion detonated on the southern staircase, killing three more peggies.

"Retreat! Retreat!" The crier was silenced by a gunshot from Grace. Scaring the peggies off.

Whatever cultists remained started running for the hills now. Both Grace and America unleashed whatever rounds they had left in their magazines. Making sure that some didn't ever come back.

That was when three gunmounted trucks pulled up to the church, but these bared no Peggie symbols. These were resistance fighters.

"Who are these guys?" Grace asked surprised to see more people.

"Our allies." America said proudly.

The gunners in the back fired and mowed down any remaining cultists in the area. You could have called the area peaceful now, but with all the bodies, fires, and bullets lying all over the place it was more of a warzone.

America welcomed the fighters and ordeed them to hold the location. She suggested places in the church they could use to best defend the church. The cult would not be taking this place any time soon, the graves and their heroes would be protected.

Returning to Grace, America found the soldier-woman standing near one of the mausoleums. The one closest to the church. She gave it a solemn salute. America decided to give the woman a moment and stood behind her.

After a moment of respectful silence Grace looked down when she felt something lick her hand. She was pleased to see a familiar local champion hound.

"Hey Boomer," she scratched his head and neck, "what are you doing here? I can't imagine Rae-Rae ever letting him out of her sight." Grace directed the question to America.

The Deputy's face became sorrowful at the mention of the family she failed. The wordless response was all Grace needed to put the puzzle together.

"She's . . .?" America nodded. "Her whole family . . . their son?"

A tight nod. "Boomer's the only survivor."

"Fuck! They were good people."

"I've been taking care of Boomer since then. And he's been taking care of me."

Taking a deep breath, Grace collected herself and stood up. She let Boomer return to the Deputy's side, where he received a welcoming pat from his owner. Her eyes scanned over the working Resistance members.

"Seems you've been taking care of more than just Boomer." Grace looked down at the ground, pondering her next words. "And I'm no exception. I owe you for protecting my Pop's grave. Not a lot of people would have stuck their necks out like that. Means a lot to me."

"I'm not the only one who would've helped you Grace. Pastor Jerome, Mary May, all of Fall's End would have come to your aid. You're not fighting this war alone."

Grace smiled wearily. "My Pop's always said: "As long as we keep believing in each other, there's still hope." If we stick together, look out for one another, the cult'll never break us."

"Ya'know, we made a pretty good team fightin' off those peggies." America smiled. "And aren't snipers supposed to work in pairs?"

"We did and they are."

America held out her hand. "Then how would you like to join me in kickin' it to Eden's Gate, Grace? John is gunnin' for me, so we won't run short of peggies to shoot."

Grace looked down at the cop's hand and then looked back up at her. She set down her gun by its butt and held it by the barrel. "You've shown me what you're capable of, Deputy. You fight for the people and you got the skills to put up a fight. This place would have been my grave if it weren't for you. I'd be glad to join you, Deputy Jones"

They both shook hands respectfully.

As soon as they stopped shaking hands, Grace had gone back to soldier-mode.

"Now, enough of all this sappy shit. There's work to do." She said seriously and headed toward America's truck.

"Yes ma'am."

They hopped into America's truck, Grace sitting in the passenger seat, while Boomer lied in the back taking it easy. Before they left, Grace had something to ask.

"Do you mind if we make a quick stop somewhere Deputy?" Grace asked as she casually changed the magazine of her AR-CL.

"What's that?"

"I'd like to stop by my house."


	8. The King of the Skies

The drive to Grace's home was a silent one. The afghan veteran was just tending to her own weapon, checking the magazine, adjusting the stock, calibrating the sight, and making sure the barrel was clean. America just watched the road, keeping an eye out for Peggie ambushes. In the back, Boomer was splayed on the seat napping, his belly exposed and his tongue hanging out. Seeing him from the rearview mirror made her smile and lighten her anxiety.

After a while the silence was finally getting to her and so she tried to small talk with Grace.

"So, Grace . . ."

"Just warning you now, not much of a small talker." She said instantly.

'Well shit.' America sighed internally.

"C-can I just say that I saw you on TV for the Olympics. You were amazing!"

"Thank you."

The silence returned. Her short reply made America want to groan in awkwardness. So much for breaking the ice. This would take time to get used to.

"How'd you know Boomer's family?" She tried again. Pointing her thumb to the back where Boomer was napping.

"My Pops was friends with Rae-Rae's dad. They served together. When I was young he used to take me to their farm and would let me practice shooting there."

That was a good, long response. More than she expected!

"You're new to Hope County, aren't ya Deputy?" Grace asked, much to America's surprise.

"Uh, yeah. I am. Just moved here three days ago. Why?"

"Lived here my whole life. Know almost everyone." She finished her rifle and set it aside to work on her 1911 pistol next. "How long ya been a Deputy?"

"Same amount. Three days."

Grace let out a low whistle. She pulled off the slide and examined it. "Did you even get a first assignment before this?"

". . . I helped arrest Joseph Seed." That sentence made the soldier stop what she was doing and look straight at the Deputy. "I cuffed him . . . and started all this."

"You were there, huh?" There was no judgment in her voice. Just understanding.

"Yeah." America said quietly.

"This ain't your fault, Deputy." Grace assured. Her statement unexpected and out of nowhere.

America didn't look at Grace. She was afraid to look.

"Maybe. But sometimes I wonder . . ."

'I wonder if Joseph was right.' America couldn't say those words out loud. The words he whispered to her just before she put the cuffs on him. 'Sometimes the best thing to do is walk away. Could I though?'

"Trust me Deputy, don't wonder. You don't want to go down that road." Grace said resolutely. She went back to working on her guns. "Believe me, things were shit here before Joseph kicked things into overdrive. You just took off the lid to an already boiling-over pot. One way or another the cult was gonna be dealt with and this is the hand God dealt us."

America rubbed her tattoo. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Grace's handgun clicked into completion and looked up. "We're here."

The Deputy braked the car and shifted the gears to park it. They got out and found the skeletal remains of what used to be the Armstrong Residence. America could only guess what the house used to look like, but judging from its perimeter size, it had to be a very big, two, maybe three-story house. Now it was just a crispy shell of black wood and ash, its remains still smoking.

America felt pains of loss and sadness. The sight reminded her of the new house she lost not long ago. Destroyed by the peggies in their goal of capturing her. But she knew that what she lost was nothing compared to what Grace lost.

Her house was not a childhood home. Grace's house was.

"So, why did you want to come here?"

"Got some things the Resistance could use. Figured I could contribute more to the cause then just my shooting skills."

Grace walked ahead without the two and stopped a couple feet from the house. She looked up and stared at her once-domicile with a blank expression. Walking up to her side America could not tell what emotions the soldier-woman was feeling but judging from Boomer's sympathetic whines she could guess Grace was feeling a ton of inner turmoil. This was her family home. Her dad's home. A place of good and bad memories burnt down by soulless people that didn't care about others, their history and their feelings.

"Do you need a minute?" America asked.

A moment past and she answered. "No, lets go."

She kicked down a piece of destroyed wall and walked through the burnt-out husk of a house. Both America and Boomer looked at each other and followed after her.

They walked to the end of the house to a room that was no different from the rest: burnt and destroyed, but this actually had something intact, a boiler.

Grace kneeled down. "Help me with this." She said.

America did as she was asked and helped Grace lift up a piece of burnt floor. Grunting, they lifted it off and threw it aside with a loud clatter. Looking down there was a hatch connected to a concrete floor.

"Is this a bunker?"

"My Pop's and I liked to call it the Foxhole. It's locked with a code that only he and I knew."

Grace typed a 6-digit code on the keypad. When she finished there were a couple clanks and a hiss coming from the door. The hatch unlocked, opening it revealed a ladder that led down a fifteen foot drop. Grace was the first to climb down it.

"Boomer, stay hear." America commanded.

Boomer wagged his tail and planted his butt on the ground. "Bark!"

America followed Grace down the Foxhole. When they reached the bottom America was surprised by how homey the bunker was.

It was spacious, enough room the four people could stand side by side and walk. It had proper wood flooring and was furnished all over. There was a kitchen in the far back, with an oven, microwave and boxes of food. Tables and shelves that held documents, maps, more supplies, and other miscellaneous items.

America was dragged from her observations when she heard a click come from Grace's direction. The woman was standing at a table activating a messaging machine on it.

"Grace, you there?!" A panicked woman said on the recorder. "Pick up! Argh! You hear this get the hell outta there, you understand? Peggies are huntin' people just like you. People they know can handle a gun. They come in the middle of the night and burn their homes to the ground. I know you wanna stand up to them, but please. I'm begging you. Don't! You need to run! God, I hope you get this in time."

The machine beeped, signaling its end. Grace walked away from the machine, ignoring its message and moved on like she hadn't heard it. Rounding the corner and walking into a small hallway that led to another room of the same length as the first.

The first thing to catch America's eyes was the rack of guns displayed on the wall. Various rifles and shotguns lined up evenly for easy access. Underneath it, a table covered with ammo and smaller guns such as pistols and submachine guns. Grace went to the wall immediately, grabbing all the AR rifles, and started stuffing them in a duffle bag that she got from the table.

Walking further in, America realized that this part of the bunker was a bedroom. To the right was a simple bunk bed, with navy blue sheets and white pillows. Something you would see at basic training. On the bed was a large teddy bear, a classic country guitar, and a baseball and mitt.

"Deputy, you mind emptying that safe over there." She nodded to the safe sitting on the floor opposite to the gun wall. "The code is 6-7-12."

"Sure thing." America knelt down and turned the knob to unlock the safe. When it opened, she found several stacks of money, five-hundred dollars each. By the time she emptied the safe contents into her bag she had $8,000 total. While rummaging through the safe she also found an antique watch in a velvet case. Looking at it, it bore the effigy of a bald eagle on the back, with the inscription "To Henry: My Saving Grace."

"Grace?" The soldier looked down at her. "You want this?" She held up the watch.

She stared at the item a bit longer than expected. "Yes, please." She held out a shaky hand and took the watch.

America looked at her curiously. The soldier-woman's eyes were glued to the golden watch. There was a slight shake in her hand. America would have asked what was wrong, but she assumed Grace wouldn't answer. Much to her surprise, she did.

"It was my Dad's. My Mom got it for him after his service."

A little taken aback by her unprovoked words, all America could say was, "Oh."

"With the car gone, the house gone, I don't have anything left of them . . . except this."

When America found Grace, sniping Peggies from that church bell tower, she thought she found someone that hadn't been hurt by the cult yet. But no, that was her mistake. Grace was very much hurt. She had nothing now. No home, no job, just a gun and a lot of bullets to put in peggie heads. Grace was as much a casualty of this war as anyone else. She just refused to die. At least not yet.

Seeing such a strong warrior like this broke her heart.

Reaching out, she grabbed her hand. Grace looked up from the watch and at the Deputy's green eyes.

"You're not alone. I got your back. All of Fall's End has your back."

She wasn't alone.

Grace looked back at the watch and smiled. "Yeah, I guess you're right." She put on the watch and nodded in thanks.

The two finished up packing. All the guns were loaded into a dufflebag, ready to be taken to Fall's End. The money America stashed in her pack.

"Anything else you want to take, Grace?" America motioned to all the other items in the room.

"No."

"Ya sure?"

Grace looked in the direction of the bed. She focused on the nightstand mainly and walked toward it. She scooped up a piece of paper, skimmed it, and pocketed it in her shirt. America didn't get a good look at what it was, but it had some nice cursive writing on it.

The two left the bunker, with Grace heading out first. America tailed behind. Just as America reached the top, introduced to pure sunlight, she heard Grace curse.

"Shit."

America looked up to see what Grace cussed at. She was welcomed by the sight of five guns pointing at her.

"Shit."

Five peggies surrounded the two. Three of them looked like the usual grunts, but one was a Flamebearer and the other a VIP.

"Hello, Grace. Deputy Jones." The VIP greeted with open arms.

"Do I know you?" Grace said with her arms raised. America did the same.

"My name is Roger Barbs." He introduced. "We don't know each other personally, but I do know the Deputy."

"Me?" America asked in confusion. Her eyes scanned around for Boomer, but she could not see any trace of the dog. There was no evidence of blood or a fight, so that was a good sign that Boomer was alright. The peggies also seemed unaware of Boomer.

"You undid my work. Stealing the Widowmaker from John's possession." He moved away some of his long hair to show off his missing ear, carefully avoiding grazing his thorn crown. Still streams of crusted blood fell down from a gaping, dark-red hole.

"It wasn't his to begin with." America said lowly, not feeling any sympathy at all for the thief.

"You're right. It's the Father's and no one steals from the Father without suffering the consequences." Roger pointed a shaky hand at the red hole in his head.

"And no one steals from good, honest, hard-working folks like Mary May. People like me stop bad men like you. Not anyone's fault but your own for siding with psychos like the Seeds."

"You damn sinner!" The flamebearer ordered with his deep voice, raising his flamethrower.

"Easy, Juggs. Easy. I'd watch what you say around us, Deputy. You've caused us more then enough problems. It's because of you that the Collapse is upon us." He said in calm fury.

America shot him a dirty glare.

"We were supposed to await a party of our people to bring you in chains."

"We saw 'em—sent us ahead." Grace said sarcastically. "They didn't want to slow us down, what with being dead and all."

Roger's glare intensified, causing his thorn crown to pierce his head more, making small streams of blood.

"So many of us dead. By your hands," his eyes scowled at America and he pointed "and yours. Especially yours." He shook his head. "Doesn't matter anymore. They died in the name of the Father. You still came here, and you got all our stuff for us. Thank you."

"My stuff." Grace said tensely.

"Your stuff is the Father's. We've established that. And when John is done with the both of you, you'll agree." He motioned his head for the two grunts to get their things.

America and Grace kept their hands up and waited for the peggies to get close. The cultists approached with the guns still raised, inching slowly toward them. When they were within arms reach, they went to grab for the bags on them. The second they removed a hand from their weapon to reach the bags, the two women struck.

America grabbed the peggie's rifle and tugged it forward, away from pointing at her. The cultists stumbled and then he was struck in the chest by America with the stock of his own gun. She got around him and put the body of his rifle against his neck, choking him and using him as a human shield.

Grace struck at the same time America did. Her cultist had a pistol, a 1911. Easily wrenching it from his hands, she pointed her own gun at Roger, while pointing her new gun at the jugular of another cultist.

It all happened so fast. The peggies were shouting sporadically now. Barking at the two resisters to release their hostages and put down the guns. Normally, the cult wouldn't have a problem killing one of their own to achieve their goal, but John and Joseph wanted these two alive, so they couldn't just open fire. Especially the flamebearer, who was too close to everyone to unleash his holy fire.

"Don't make this anymore difficult then it has to be ladies." Roger tried to reason.

"Fuck you!" Grace waved the gun pointing at Roger and pressed her stolen gun further into the peggie's throat.

"You lot put down your guns!" America tried to order. "We'll let you go alive." She struggled to hold the cultist, he was trying to relieve the gun from his neck.

"We can't do that now. John ordered us to take you both. And I can't fail a second time."

"Well, John's gonna be awfully disappointed today then." America said.

Roger grinded his teeth. "You can't hold this position forever. We outnumber you and sooner or later you won't hold onto those hostages for long."

"Then come at us!" America challenged. "I know you don't give a shit about your own people. Just shoot already."

"Don't think we—"

Suddenly the rifle used to choke America's shield went off and shot the third grunt. He fell back dead, chest cavity full of holes. His body locked up and inadvertently squeezed the trigger of his own gun shooting behind Juggs. The bullets impacted against the boiler and made it explode and rocket high into the sky.

The resulting explosion caused the flamebearer to stumble forward and push Grace's hostage. Grace shot the cultist on reflex and was pushed down herself as well. Roger then charged at Grace and tried to restrain her.

America had lost her grip and now she and the Peggie were fighting for the gun. Tugging, pulling, pushing, they thrashed against each other for dominance. Kicking her foot out, she knocked the man's leg down making him kneel. With him at chest level, America grabbed underneath the stock and smashed it against the man's head several times. Getting tired of being smacked, the cultist lurched forward and bit her finger. America screamed out and loosened her hands a little, allowing the peggie to toss the gun away and tackle the woman to the ground.

"Don't just lie there you idiot, help me!" Roger desperately screamed at the flamebearer. Grace was a highly trained soldier, not weak in any physical way. Roger was a former grocery store clerk, who hardly visited the gym. The only reason Roger was able to hold her down as long as he had was because of the Bliss enhancements all VIPs get. But even then, Grace was getting the better of him and needed the burly flamebearer to help.

The flamebearer groaned, disoriented, but did as told. He crawled toward Grace and grabbed her arm which was punching the shit out of Roger's face, breaking his nose.

Just when the VIP thought he would get her, a grey blur leaped over the flamebearer's back and tackled him off of Grace. Roger saw snapping teeth and hot slobber in his vision. A mid-size dog on top of him barking aggressively and trying to wrap his jaws around Roger's neck.

"Somebody get this dog off'a me!" He shouted scared.

With her right arm free now, Grace struck the flamebearer three time in the face. Cushioned mostly by his leather mask, but he felt most of the force behind each hit. He tried to get on top of her, restrain her with his weight, but she was nimble and managed to get out from under him.

America and the cultists were back on their feet and they were slamming each other into the wall. America kicked him, pushing him against the charred wall and threw a punch. He ducked out of the way and tried to punch back, but she kept her arms up and blocked it. Her arms shot out like guns, jabbing the guy in the face and upper body. They didn't hurt as much as her full-force punches, but they did enough to make the guy hurt every time he moved.

Roger was still tussling with Boomer, holding the hound back by pressing his forearm against its neck. He could feel its hot breath on his face and so he tried shutting its trap by punching it. Boomer whined a little but did not relent. He managed to get around the VIPs arm and bite the guy's neck.

The flamebearer tried to get his flamethrower back, he was more fireproof the soldier-woman, so he figured he could burn her at these quarters. But Grace was playing keep away with his weapon. Every time he tried to pull it back to him by the hose, she would kick it or grab it herself.

Tired of playing games with the pyromaniac, Grace took the flamethrower and severed the hose from the weapon in one clean swoop with her karambit knife. She then kicked it away to the far corner and charged the big man. Angry, the flamebearer charged as well. When they collided the flamebearer felt something sharp in his back, but he ignored the pain and grabbed the woman in a big bear hug. He lifted her off the ground and tried to squeeze her. Grace yelled out in pain, but she grit her teeth and swung her knife high in the air and brought it down on top of the man's head. He went silent and a few seconds later he fell dead. Grace fell to the ground coughing for air.

Roger had grabbed Boomer's maw just before they could really sink into his throat. The dog drew blood around his neck but did not pierce anything vital. Slowly, he pulled the dog away from his neck and with all the unnatural strength he had, tossed Boomer aside. He then spun around on the ground and kicked the dog just as he tried pouncing on the VIP again.

Roger saw by the corner of the destroyed room, near the window, the flamebearer's flamethrower and he made a dash for it. He succeeded and got the fire spewing weapon, which was still full of fuel. He turned around just in time to see America pull up her opponent, hold his arm at an uncomfortable level and reach around his chin.

"Stop!" He ordered. America, Boomer, and Grace looked up at him, everyone was breathing heavily. "Release him, sinner. It's over."

America glared, but she didn't let go. The last remaining grunt was puffy and purple, blood was leaking from his ears, nose, and mouth. His eyes were swollen shut from the beating the Deputy gave him.

"I said, let him go!" He pointed the flamethrower at her.

"Sure." America said curtly and twisted the man's neck, killing him.

"No!" He watched as the body of his last man fell down dead. Roger was the only survivor. "You're gonna pay for that." He growled.

America raised her hands in the air. "That's why I did it. You won't kill me, so I killed him regardless. One less Peggie to hurt people."

"We hurt people?" He spat on the ground. "What have you been doing? What did you just do? Killing, bullets, blood, that's your only answer to us. All we wanna do is save people and here you are stopping us at every turn."

"Just shut up." America said tiredly. "I've heard all this nonsense before from less pathetic bastards. You're just a two-bit thief, Roger. An opportunist who just wants to FEEL important. Anything that comes out of your mouth is more crap then anything the Seeds can come up with. And that's Grade-A bullshit."

"Shut up!"

"Honestly, I'm surprised the Seeds even consider you "very important." You're a sycophant for God's sake. Everything you do is to just suck someone's dick and be praised for it. Because you feel inadequate. Boring. And the Seeds make you feel special . . . for stealing a truck and lying to a woman. Without them you'd know just how pathetic and slimy of a person you really are."

"Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP! Hah, hah, forget it. Forget what John wants, what Joseph wants. I'm gonna roast you alive, just so I don't have to look at your sin-spewing mouth ever again. John may kill me, but I'll die a martyr among my peers, who saved them from the slithering SNAKE that is—"

*SPLAT!*

Roger would never finish that sentence or speak in general ever again. The boiler that had been launched into the air had come down and landed on top of Roger, flattening him like a pancake and splattering his blood everywhere. Even getting a little on the three fighters.

"Well," America said, wiping off the blood from her cheek, "that happened."

"How did you know that was gonna land on him, Deputy?" Grace asked, wiping off the blood as well.

"I didn't." She replied.

"Now that's what I call a miracle. Let's get out of here."

While Boomer was licking himself clean of blood, America and Grace collected the cultist guns and loaded all of their possession in the truck. When they were finished, they decided to just rest a little before going on their way.

"You fought good back there, Deputy." Grace complimented.

"Thanks. You as well, Grace."

"I ain't ever seen anyone fight like that since my days in the Army. Who trained you?"

"My Mom. She was a Ranger."

"An Army Ranger?" America nodded. "No shit? You were never part of the military?"

"No. She didn't want me in the military—dealing with the same shit she did. But I wanted to serve my country somehow. I figured this was the next best thing." She showed off her badge.

"She trained you well. Though it seems a bit rusty."

"My mom only gave me some training, not all. Just enough to protect myself and be deadly. Her training is actually mixed with my boxing too."

"Trained by an Army Ranger and is a boxer too." Grace chuckled. "I can see why you can knock out a man with just one or two punches."

America chuckled with her. They both stopped laughing when they heard the radio crackle. Someone was calling for help.

"Hello? Is anyone listening? If you ain't a Peggie, then please help! My name's Nick Rye. The peggies are trying to steal ma plane. Please, my wife's pregnant and they're tryin' to-*RATATATATAT*"

The radio went dead after a series of gunshots went off.

"Nick . . . I thought he and Kim would'a been outta here by now." Grace said.

"Come on! They need help!" America quickly got in the truck.

"Move over, I know the way." Grace said and took the wheel.

Boomer hopped in the back just in time before they sped off. The truck's wheels kicked up dirt and dust as Grace drove at 50 miles an hour.

They arrived at the Rye Family Airstrip just in time to see a helicopter explode and spin to the ground in a fiery blaze.

Grace made a hard left and drove onto the strip and headed straight for the main hangar. They saw a lone man fighting off the peggies from the safety of his hanger, but he was outmatched and outgunned. Grace evened the odds by plowing through a few cultists before skidding to a halt, crushing a peggie's head under a tire.

The peggies watched the truck skid to a halt, creating a dust cloud that smoke screened the whole vehicle. They looked at each other and raised their weapons ready for anything. That's when Boomer pounced out of the cloud and leaped onto a cultist, biting into his throat. The man screamed and begged his friends to help him, but before they could America ended their lives with a couple shots from Judgement.

Grace got out of the truck and lied on top of the hood. She activated her green laser sight and locked on to her targets. One shot blew a man's brains out from the back. The scene scared the rest of his friends into a panic and they ran out into the open. America fired Judgement, going all Clint Eastwood on them, Grace unleashed her skills, got three more headshots and Nick emptied his gun removing any peggies from his property.

When all the peggies were dead, and the group could catch their breath, Nick let out a curse and threw his gun to the ground. He then started to kick the dirt and cuss up a storm.

"Damn it! Those peggies took off with my plane! We're trapped! We're fucking TRAPPED! What am I gonna do now?!"

"Nick. Nick! Calm down. Get a hold of yourself."

"Grace? Oh man, I'm ever glad to see you." He ran up and hugged the woman. "You're okay."

"I am. I've been puttin' the screws to the cult. But what are you doing here, Nick? I thought you would have been outta here by now."

"I would'a been, but the peggies "Marked" us. They've been stopping us from leaving, trying to get us to join them. John himself showed up here before all this shit happened, preaching about the "Father Joseph." Fuck them! The only father my child is goin' to have is me!"

"John was here?"

"Yeah, ya just missed him. I'm sorry, who're you?"

"Deputy Jones of the Sherriff's Department."

"I heard about you. You're the one causin' all the trouble for John and the cult. You liberated Fall's End!"

"Me and several others."

Nick suddenly invaded her personal space, clapping his hands on her shoulders. "Please, you helped Fall's End, you gotta help me get my plane back!" he shouted pleadingly.

"Sir, sir, breath, calm down." She tried to ease the poor man.

"I'm sorry. I don't like to get emotional." He sniffed and held out his hand. "My names Nick Rye, of Rye and Son's Aviation." They shook hands. "I need my plane back to get my wife out of here or we're beyond fucked."

"The only other place that I know the cult would take your plane, Nick, is the Seed Ranch." Grace suggested.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. It's the only other place nearby that has an airstrip big enough to land her." Nick looked down at the ground ashamedly. "W-would you both go there and get it for me? I would go with you—hell I'd go get it myself—but my wife' due any minute and just—I can't leave her alone, not with the cult lurking around."

"Don't worry Mr. Rye. We'll get your plane back and you and your wife will be outta here in no time."

"Please, Mr. Rye was my father. Call me Nick like everyone else. And thank you, Deputy. You're really saving my skin here."

The three fighters got on the road as soon as possible. America let Grace drive since she knew where the ranch was. While Grace drove America checked her guns, making sure each and every one of them was loaded and cleaned before taking them out to a fight.

"Grace, what can you tell me about this place."

"The Seed Ranch is a large complex. Consists of two building, a chalet and a hangar. It wasn't always in the possession of John Seed. It used the belong to the Kennedys. Probably the richest family in Hope County. Nice family, very welcoming, threw good barbecues, inviting most of the town. Then the Seeds bought them out, practically took all their property for pennies."

"How'd they do that?"

"Same way as everyone else, though I heard the son joined Eden's Gate and tricked his whole family into signing everything over."

"You're kidding." She honestly couldn't believe that.

"It was just a rumor, but considering what's been happening . . ."

She let the thought hang in the air.

Grace stopped the car about a mile and a half from their target location. When asked, Grace said it would be better they go by foot then leave. Loading everything up, the group trekked through the forest and climbed up the high hills.

It would be an hour before they managed to arrive at the Ranch. It was much bigger and nicer then she expected. As Grace said there were two main structures: a large chalet and a huge hangar complete with tower. America sent Boomer ahead to scout out how many peggies were around.

"This place is a fortress." America whispered as she peered through her binoculars. "I already count eight peggies and who knows how many more Boomer'll find."

"I heard a lot of bad things go on inside there. Let's try and not get caught alright?"

"You won't hear me arguing. Boomer's already barked fifteen times and that's only on the outside."

"No howls at least, don't have to worry about hostages. What are you worried about anyway? Didn't you take back Fall's End?"

"You people make it sound like I did it single handedly. I had an army of my own to do it."

"The way people've been talking, you may as well have."

Before America could rebuke her Boomer bounded back toward them. From her total Boomer barked 22 times.

"Good work boy." She rubbed his head. "We're just here for Nick's plane. Let's get it and get the hell out of here."

"Bark!"

"What?"

"Bark! Bark!" Boomer ran back and forth, looking to them and to the house.

"What's wrong Boomer?" Grace asked.

"I think he wants us to follow him." America deduced.

That seemed to be the case as the dog ran off without orders, stopping a short way to look back and see if he was being followed.

The two women looked at each other before shrugging and followed the mutt.

They chose to creep through the tall grass following Boomer. Moving along the back of the lodge, there appeared to be few who were watching from that direction, probably because that way led to a drop down a steep, rocky hill.

They saw one guy leaning against the wall, blocking their way to the hangar. America threw a rock to distract him. With his back to him, America threw a knife and got him in the back of the neck. He fell forward into the tall grass out of sight.

With the coast clear, they followed Boomer who was waiting for them near a small, rectangular, basement window. He pointed his snout, telling them to look in.

America and Grace got down on the ground and peered inside. At first, they couldn't see anything, it was too dark. Once their eyes adjusted though they could see several people, beaten, bloodied, and chained up. Prisoners of the cult.

"Hostages. A lot of them." Grace said.

Looking around a bit more, America could see that some of them were malnourished, others were severely hurt, and there was dried blood on the stone floor. It wasn't a pretty sight.

"Change of plans, Grace. We're taking this place today."

"What?" Grace turned her head in shock. "Deputy, I want to help these people too, but we're outmatched here, with just the two of us."

Boomer growled.

"Three." The Deputy corrected. "And weren't you just bragging that I could liberate places like these singlehandedly?"

"Weren't you also telling me you had an army last time?"

"We took on those assholes at the church."

"Because we had the home advantage. Positions we could use against them. Here, we're smack dab in the middle of enemy territory."

"Grrrrrr!"

The two looked down at Boomer. The cattle dog was facing away from them and growling at a corner. They could hear people talking and drawing nearer.

"I told you I heard something."

"Fine, fine, we're checking it out ain't we?"

Their eyes widened. Grace and America searched around to hide. The Deputy pointed to the backdoor of the house. Hurrying in, they just narrowly avoided getting seen by the peggies.

"That was close." Grace said.

"Yeah. Thankfully, the house is empty."

The interior of the chalet was just as nice as the exterior. They were standing in a dining room. There was an oaken table and chair set, with a whole bunch of documents and weapons on it. Looking at the papers, they looked like legal documents. America recalled that John was a lawyer and a damn good one too, that's how the cult managed to get so much land.

There was a whole bunch of fine, plush furniture, shelves lined with books of various subjects, rugs from fancy to simple ones, to a full bear-skin rug. Above were chandeliers made from elk antlers and banners baring the Eden's Gate Cross. The center piece of the whole room though, was the fireplace made from fieldstone. On the mantle were skulls of deer, pronghorn and moose, and a gold-plated sniper rifle. Above that, was a framed portrait of the Father, Joseph Seed.

"Hello." Grace said pleasantly. She walked up to the fireplace, slung her rifle back, and took the golden sniper rifle off the mantle. It was an MBP .50, with gold plating. On the barrel of the gun was a square silencer, and on top of the body was a high-powered, long-range sniper scope. It was a hell of a gun, if not a bit flashy.

Hearing the creaking of a door open, Grace swung around, aiming her new rifle. To her annoyance and relief, it was America opening a closet door.

"What are you doing?" Grace whispered frustratingly.

"Looking for a way into the basement, we have to help those people." America insisted.

"No. What we need to do is get Nick's plane and get out of here."

"We can take this place, Grace. We got an army. Those people." She pointed down, indicating the prisoners below. "There have to be more than a dozen people down there. If we free them, get them guns, then we can overwhelm this place."

"And where would we get guns for them?" Grace challenged.

"I don't know. There's a freaking rocket launcher sitting on the table there." Pointing to said weapon. "This house is big, I'm sure we can find something."

"You're grasping at straws, Deputy. We shouldn't—"

"AAAAHHHHH!"

Both spun on their heels, drawing their pistols and pointing them at the second floor. Boomer growled and crouched in a pouncing position.

They looked at each other before silently agreeing to check it out. Entering the second floor, they opened a door to a long hallway, with several different doors. Checking each one, they found mostly barracks for the cultists, but no one inside them.

"Grace." America called over quietly. Motioning for her to check out the room she found. Grace made her way over to America and was surprised to see the surplus of weapons and ammo in the room. That was all the contents in it. Cases of weapons and ammunition that covered the floor and nearly reached to the ceiling.

Suddenly they heard the scream again, coming from the room farthest from them, at the end of the hallway. Now that they were closer, they could tell the scream was distinctly female.

Tiptoeing over to the door and opening it slightly they saw a couple of prisoners tied to X-shaped crosses. A man and a woman. Looking at one of them closely, the woman had her skin peeled off at the hand, showing her nothing but bloody muscle.

Then a Peggie entered their view. "I'm sorry that this had to happen." He apologized darkly, while cleaning a bloody double-edged knife. "But we all must pay the price for our sins."

"H-he just needed food." The woman whimpered.

"That was not your choice to make! You stole food from the righteous followers of the Father. This is just punishment for thieves." He then pointed his knife at the man. "And you, striking a holy man in the defense of this sinner?" He tutted the man. "I'm afraid you must lose something as well." The knife moved downward pointing to the man's genitals. "You're lust made you protect this sinner. If you had repented sooner you would only walk away without skin, now . . ." He approached.

"No . . . NO! Please!"

"Don't hurt him, PLEASE!"

Before the Peggie could even come near, he felt his head get forcefully tugged back and something sharp pierce his neck. Turning his head slightly he saw the cold glare of the infamous Deputy who had been giving the Project so much trouble. It was the last thing he saw before his sight went dark, with his last thought being his incapableness of alerting his brothers of the demon among them.

Grace and America quickly went to untie the prisoners.

"Are you okay?" The Deputy asked.

"No." The woman cried. Once she was freed, she fell to her knees and clutched her bleeding arm. "I am far from alright."

Once Grace released the man he quickly ran to the woman's aid, with a fresh white towel. Wrapping it up to stop the bleeding and making her hiss in pain.

"I'm sorry, we didn't get here sooner." America said dejectedly.

"If you hadn't come now, who knows what would have happened to the both of us. Thank you." The man said. "I'm Keith. This is Helen."

"How many of you are here?" America asked.

"There's more of us down in the basement."

"We saw them." Grace said, but nothing more.

"This whole fucking place is a torture chamber for John. People are always talking about his bunker, but this place is just as bad."

America walked over to a window and pulled back the curtains slightly enough to peek through. There were still peggies outside. One walked past her, patrolling the balcony, none the wiser. The only way they were going to save the people in this place was to take it from the cult's hands. It would not be easy . . . but neither was taking Fall's End.

"How do you want to play this, Deputy?" Grace asked, her new rifle gripped in hand. Her look said that she was willing to do whatever now.

"Keith, Helen, do you know if any of the people down there are in any condition to fight?"

"A lot of them are injured, but yeah. Give them a chance and a gun and they'll fight. Some are Resistance members actually." Keith answered.

"That works for us." Grace said. "There are some weapons in the next room. We take those to them, we got a fighting chance."

"What about Helen? She can't—"

"Yes, I can." Helen grit. She stood up slowly, with a determined look on her face.

"Are you sure, Helen?" America asked concerned. "Your hand is messed up."

"I'll shoot a fucking pistol or something. But I'm not staying out of this. I want those peggies to bleed!"

Both America and Grace looked at each other. They looked back to the two ready.

"Alright. Then we have a plan." America slammed her fist into her palm. "Let's cause some vandalism."

. . .

The windows crashed outward, startling the peggies. They spun around, weapons drawn, but they saw nothing but broken glass on the ground.

As well as two cylindrical cans.

The cans erupted into smoke, causing the peggies' eyes to water and make it difficult to breath. They coughed uncontrollably and rushed to get out of the choking clouds. As soon as they did though they were mowed down by multiple gunfire.

On the balcony, two fighters rushed out, blasting the closest peggies with shotguns. When the balcony was cleared, they went for the radio and disabled it with a spread of buckshot. The snipers situated on the roof of the hangar tower started lining up their shots. One was about to take out a fighter on the balcony, but then his brains were shot out of his forehead.

The other snipers looked to see who just killed their buddy. Grace stood over them, with a 1911 Colt pistol in hand. She fired again, shooting into a peggie's head, then pistol-whipped the last sniper, knocking him over and plummeting to his death. She took out her new rifle and started lining up shots.

America tossed a grenade from behind the chalet's walls. It landed near a truck where three peggies took shelter behind. Exploding, the grenade caused the truck to jump a few inches off the ground and kill the peggies with shrapnel.

Looking down the rifle's sight, America searched for more peggies. Pulling the trigger, she got one peggie in the head, making him crumple to the ground, another in the neck, making him choke to death in front of his friends, and another in the chest. The last one was still breathing, calling out for help.

It was too easy then. Several more peggies rushed to aid their fallen brother, but that left them open and vulnerable to attack. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Peggies literally died left and right trying to save him. In the end, he bled out.

Some of the peggies played it smart and stayed hidden behind cover. Unfortunately, they were thinned out and they made excellent targets for Boomer to sneak up on and maul to death.

"Keith, Helen, how's it in the hangar?"

Keith pumped his shotgun before answering. "Some peggies tried going for the planes. We stopped them though."

Helen double tapped another peggie with her pistol to make sure they were dead. "Won't get air support here, motherfuckers."

Keith looked behind him to see the other three members of their squad do the same as Helen.

"They stopped coming. I think we got all the pilots in the ranch. Do you need assistance, Deputy Jones?"

"No, Keith. You guys stay there and hold the hangar just in case more peggies try to get wings."

"Roger that."

Though they wouldn't get air support, the peggies could still get help by land. Two peggie trucks started speeding up the road. On the backs were fifty-caliber machine guns.

"Grace!"

"I see 'em." Grace spotted the front driver through her scope, clear as day.

Leading the target, she pulled the trigger. The peggie's head exploded, scaring the passengers, and spraying blood all over the interior. The truck swerved and toppled on its side. The truck behind them accidently crashed into it, making it skid further.

America could see the fuel tank on the skidding truck. Using Fall's Ghost, she unleashed a rapid fire of shots, hitting the tank three times perfectly, resulting in a fiery explosion. The second peggie truck crashed through the wreckage and kept moving.

The truck stopped in front of the chalet and the gunner in the back started firing. From the other seats, all the cultists got out and started finding positions to fire from. One of the peggies that got out was a tall fella. Decked out in a lot of body armor, including even a crude helmet, complete with face shield. A chain was wrapped around him and in his large hands was a M-60 LMG.

"Oh shit!" One of the fighters yelled dreadfully. "GOLIATH!"

The combined force of the two machine guns forced the fighters to take cover. Everyone shielded their heads and dropped to the floor. Some were too late and were impacted with numerous rounds. America saw blood explode from bodies and get launched several feet across the room.

"Grace!" America shouted into her radio. "Take out those gunners!"

"On it!" Grace aimed for the gunner in the truck, shooting him in the head.

Grace focused on the goliath next. She fired, but to her shock, the bullet didn't penetrate, instead sparking, and bouncing off his helmet. This attracted the attention of the Goliath and his men. Before Grace could shoot again, he fired on Grace, forcing her into cover.

"I'm pinned down!"

"Retaliate!" America and the remaining fighters opened fire while the cult focused on Grace.

They managed to kill a few more of the peggies but were quickly put back into cover when the goliath fired his gun on them again. The fighters on the balcony were killed by a spray of bullets and one of the fighters near America got his head shredded.

"Fuck!" The Deputy cursed.

"He's advancing!" Someone warned.

"What do we do?!"

"Let's get him with a grenade!"

"No, use the rocket launcher!"

"NO!" America screamed. "He's too close, if any of those goes off we risk getting' the blow back."

"Then what?!"

It was hard to think over the roaring of gunfire and the shouts of the fighters. All America could do was think and look. Her eyes scanned the whole room, looking for something, anything, to give them an edge. Her eyes settled on one of the fighters providing medical care to someone who got shot. She looked right at her med kit.

"Hey! Is that a bottle of rubbing alcohol?"

The fighter looked down at her supplies and nodded wordlessly.

"Throw it here!" The fighter looked at her weird but did as she said.

"What are you going to do with that?" A fighter asked her.

America tore off a shred of her shirt and stuffed it into the glass bottle. "Improvise. Grace, get the guy's attention again." Grace did as ordered and fired again at the man's head. Once again, just leaving an indent in the metal helmet.

Grace ducked back into cover just as the peggie fired on her again. With his attention off her, America jumped up, reeled back her arm and threw the lit bottle. It shattered against the goliath.

At first it did nothing and the peggie just kept coming, but then the flames engulfed him entirely and he started to scream. He then dropped his gun, patted himself all over, flail around, trying to put himself out.

America shouted at the top of her lungs, "EVERYONE OPEN FIRE!"

Every shotgun blasted, every rifle burst, every machinegun roared, and every pistol fired. Grace, from on high, shot every round in her magazine, didn't even bother to aim for the head. America emptied every gun she had, when Judgement was empty, she moved on to the Farmhand, then the Fall's Ghost.

The goliath took every shot, his body jerking with each impact. Finally, America called a cease fire. It was quiet now; gun smoke filled the fresh mountain air.

The peggie fell to his knees. He raised his hands into the air as if he was waiting for an embrace. Until finally he fell down with a thud.

"THE RANCH IS OURS!"

"YEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

. . .

After the battle, America and Grace helped the former captives settle the place. Pointing out strategic positions, defense points, keeping track of remaining ammo and weapons. Any advice to keep them alive and hold this place. The fighters were taking anything cult related and throwing it on pyres, along with the peggie bodies. Many were actually fighting over who would throw in the portrait of Joseph into the fire.

America called Fall's End and informed Mary and Jerome that the Seed Ranch was taken. Saying the community leaders were overjoyed was an understatement. After getting over their initial surprise and congratulating them they promised to send more people to help defend the place.

But right now, before they left, America needed to know just how many of them died. Few were injured, save the ones that were already in bad shape from the cult's tortures, but the dead . . . the cult were beaten but not without cost.

"Casualty report." America asked. She stared over several bodies with white blankets over them.

"Eleven, ma'am." Helen responded somberly. She clutched her bandaged hand close to her chest. Keith had a comforting arm around her. "That Goliath really did a number on us."

"Shit." America sighed frustratingly. Her voice laced with so much grief. "I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for ma'am." Keith said.

"We'd be still at the mercy of Eden's Gate if not for you." Helen assured, reaching out and gripping the Deputy's hand soothingly. "You are a hero and everyone alive here would agree with me."

America smiled hollowly. "Thank you for the kind words."

"Here." Keith handed America a key with a yellow keychain that said Rye and Son's Aviation. "You said you and Miss Armstrong were here for Nick Rye's plane. Well you're free to take off now. Don't worry about us, we'll hold the line here."

Tightening her hold on the key, America looked up at the couple and nodded in thanks, the hollow smile still plastered on her face.

She walked over to Grace who was leaning against the hangar wall. Boomer was by her side, just lying down and waiting patiently for his owner.

"Got the key to Nick's plane." America called out.

"Good."

"Let's get over to Nick's and—"

"Listen, Deputy." Grace interrupted tersely, shocking America a little bit by her tone. "You and I want the same thing: to protect Hope County and its people from the cult. As you said, we're all in this together. But that stunt you pulled—"

"I'm a cop, Grace. My job is to defend the people."

"So. Is. Mine. But we can't just get into every fight that's on our path. Sometimes we have to ignore the suffering of the few to—"

"The few? More than twenty were being tortured in John's basement!"

"Calm down! I'm not saying there was no cause to strike. We did good here, despite my resignations. But this fight could have been different if we planned ahead instead of jumping head first into the fire. We could've gotten Nick's plane, fly out of here and come back with a tougher force and a legitimate strategy."

"Maybe, but I couldn't just leave those people no matter what. Screw reason. I have a responsibility to defend Hope County."

Memories flashed through America's head. A crashed helicopter, fire all around, Joseph declaring his reaping, and peggies swarming like locusts.

'Especially since they're all in danger because of me.'

"We all got a responsibility, Deputy." Grace said. "Seeing as how this conversation is going nowhere, I'll end it with this. You said you have my back. We're partners. I'm your sniper, you're my spotter. If you go over my head like that again, if you put us and other civilians in danger like that again . . . we're through."

Grace spun on her heel before America had a chance to say anything. She just glared at the woman's back, then looked down in shame. Her eyes shifted to Boomer who was looking up at her sadly.

"C'mon Boomer."

The garage of the hangar opened, revealing several planes inside. All of them were the same model, baring cult markings, save one.

Nick Rye's Plane was an old, bright yellow Kimberlite HP-18-160 floatplane, with black and red stripes on the side, along with Nick's business logo in between them, "Rye and Sons" was stamped on the pontoons, and a shark face painted on the nose behind the propeller.

"Hello, Carmina." Grace said fondly and walked in.

"What?" America followed.

"That's what the Rye's call their plane. Carmina. I think it was the name of Nick's grandmother . . . or maybe an old girlfriend."

Much to America's surprise the plane was decked out in weaponry, with a gatling gun mounted on the belly where a sprayer would go and on the wings were a set of bomb racks.

"Did the peggies do all this?" America questioned as she scanned the whole plane.

"The weapons? Nah." Grace answered. "Nick did that himself when the peggies were starting to become a noticeable problem. He was all ready to go to war with them, until Kim started showing signs of pregnancy."

"I've seen armaments like this before. On Georgie's Clusterduck plane. Rest in peace Georgie. Where are you guys gettin' all these weapons?"

It was one thing to own one rocket launcher, gatling gun, explosives, but it was another thing entirely when you had a whole arsenal of them. The number of weapons they had should have alerted SOME government organizations.

"Don't ask me. I own all my guns legally. I heard there's some kind of arms dealer somewhere around Hope County, but that's it."

"I'll look into that later. Right now, we need to get Nick's plane outta here."

Tossing the key in the air and catching it, the three got in the plane. Grace and Boomer taking up the back, while America sat in the pilot's seat.

"You know how to fly?" Grace asked.

"Yep! My Mom was in the army, but my uncle was a part of the Air Force. Has his own landing strip just like Nick. Gave me flying lessons and everything."

"That's convenient."

"Ain't it?"

America turned the key, activating the engine, making it cough. She flipped several switches and turned several knobs, bringing the machine more to life. The propeller began to spin and take them slowly out of the hangar.

Making it to the runway, the plane picked up speed, the propeller spinning faster and faster until it was just a blur. And they were off.

"Hey Partner, I heard someone threw a party at the Seed Ranch. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would ya?" Nick said cheekily over the radio.

America smiled at Nick's playfulness and responded in kind.

"Maybe. Place had a few ups and downs, but we walked out with a nice party favor. Big, yellow, and armed to the teeth."

"So you got my plane back? Awesome! Is she okay?"

"She's running like a dream, Nick. Trust me, I know planes too and everything I'm doing she's respondin' in kind."

"Ya sound confident. I'll take your word, Dep."

"Though we should probably test the weapons too before we bring it back to ya, right?"

Nick caught on to her meaning. "Oh yeah, best test them out while you're in the air. Bring it on back when you're done."

"Ten-four Nick. See ya at your airstrip in a bit."

America turned Carmina and flew over the farmlands of Holland Valley. She pulled on the steering wheel and flew downward. Out the window she could see a bunch of peggies, loading up bliss into trucks from a silo. Reaching for the button to release one of the bombs, she waited until she was in the right spot and dropped it right on top of them. The combined explosion of the bomb and vehicles and bliss destroyed all the peggies.

She then came across some Chosen and their planes sitting in the middle of a field. Looking through the targeting sight, she pressed the buttons to fire the main gun and took out all the Chosen and their planes.

Next, America shot up any of the cult's red silos she could see. The resulting explosion was huge and could be seen from several miles.

The radio crackled to life. At first, America thought it was Nick calling to praise them for destroying so much peggie property, but instead it was the sinister voice of the youngest Seed brother.

"So . . . you've taken my home in the name of your little "Resistance." Ah, if those walls could talk . . . well, more accurately scream." John bragged ominously.

America wasn't intimidated though and retorted like last time. "I'm sure they'd tell us all about the many times Joseph has fucked you in the ass, John. But no one wants to hear about your incestuous trysts."

America could practically feel the vein bulging on John's forehead. "If you say one more word about Joseph . . ."

"Or what? You'll throw more of your sheep at me? The more I kill the less we'll lock up in the future. And the less that'll be guarding your future corpse."

. . .

His silence spoke volumes! Making America grin at getting under the arrogant man's skin.

"Just know that I will get my home back. Sooner or later. And when I do maybe I'll hang your skin as a trophy above my mantle."

He then cut the connection.

"Asshole." Grace spat.

"Nice going!" Nick was apparently listening on his end and approved. "Takes guts to stand up to a monster like John Seed. I see why you're leadin' the Resistance."

"Co-leading." America clarified. "And we're coming in now, Nick. Standby."

"I see ya. Just take her down slow-like."

America brought the plane down, slowly pulling on the throttle and then they bumped. The plane rumbled as the wheels skidded over the dirt. She turned the steering wheel in the direction of the hangar, where Nick was waiting for them with waving arms.

Carmina came to a halt. She killed the motor and stepped out of the plane to meet with Nick.

"Oh my God. Oh my God, look at her!" Nick approached elated. "Son of a bitch you did it! You did it, thank you!" He clasped America and Grace's hands and shook them joyously.

"It was my pleasure Nick." America said.

"Sorry, it took us some time to get it." Grace apologized.

"You kiddin'? You not only got Carmina back, but you took John Seed's house too! Well worth the wait." He turned his head and shouted, "Kim! Carmina's back!"

"Yeah, I heard!" His wife, Kim, called back from the house.

"Get the bags! Come on let's turn her around." He went to the other side of the plane. "Come on grab on!"

Both America and Grace grabbed the other pontoon and helped Nick turn the plane in the opposite direction. They grunted as the pushed and pulled the plane to face the runway.

"You know this is the first time in a long time, I feel like shit's going my way. Those damn peggies."

"I'm glad we could help." America groaned.

"You just get your family somewhere safe, Nick." Grace said.

"Where ya headin' to anyway, if you don't mind me asking?" America questioned.

"Kim's got some family up in Canada. We're headin' there. Not too eager about it, that place is kinda weird. Did you know they're still owned by the British Royals? 1776 never happened! I'll still go there for safety and healthcare reasons, but I wouldn't stay there forever."

They got the plane turned around. Nick then gave the plane one last inspection.

"Kim, come on! Please tell me they didn't fuck with her. You know this plane's been in my family for three generations. Can you believe that?"

"Yes, Nick, you've told me this story before. Your daddy and mine were friends remember?"

"I didn't know that." The Deputy piped. "I'm new."

"Then I look forward to telling you all about it one day. Kim ya coming?!"

"Yeah! I'm comin'!" His wife shouted back annoyed.

"I swear that woman sometimes."

"She's pregnant Nick. Can't expect her to run a marathon." Grace chastised.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, my grandpa first got her when he got back from World War Two. It was his pride and joy."

"Nick!" Kim shouted, but Nick seemed to not hear her.

"I made a few modifications over the years." He continued.

"NICK!" Kim shouted again, this time he heard her and he responded back with impatient annoyance.

"Kim would you just hurry up?"

"Nick the peggies are on their way!"

"What?"

The rising sound of an aircraft coming nearer, and a Peggie plane flew over head. It dropped a bomb far from where they were.

"Those motherfuckers just don't know when to quit."

"Tell me about." America groaned.

Two peggies on an ATV drove by, firing submachine guns. The fighters ducked down, avoiding the spray of bullets. Nick pulled his gun around and fired it right back, getting both the peggies.

America looked at Nick's gun and realized it was an old WW2 MP34. It was decorated to look just like Carmina, complete with yellow paintjob, shark face, and even the Rye and Son's staple on the side.

Nick looked at the two women. "Listen I'm better in the air, but you two are fuckin' beasts on the ground. I'll hit them high, you guys hit them low, what do you say?" America and Grace gave him a fist bump. "Hoorah! Kim you stay inside until I get back!"

Nick got in his plane and expertly took off in a matter of seconds. Just as he left there was a crash at the house and Kim's high-pitched screams.

"Grace, get on top of the hangar. Some good spots for you to hide and get a good view from above. I'll go check on Kim."

"You got it."

"Come on, Boomer!"

The dog barked and ran after his master. Sure enough, Peggie trucks were outside the Rye household. With a couple peggies watching the perimeter. Boomer dashed forward and sunk his teeth into a Peggie throat. America came at a Peggie before he could respond and socked him in the face, hard enough to break his neck.

Kim's screams came again from the house. America quickly ran in and found a Peggie waiting in the living room. She knocked him to the ground with a hard right and let Boomer pounce on him. While the dog dealt with the down stairs threat, America moved upstairs and found a peggie swinging an axe against what she assumed was Kim's bedroom door.

The door must have been made of some strong wood because the axe was barely leaving a mark, but Kim screamed each time the man swung.

America quickly intervened and grabbed the axe just as the cultist raised it up. She yanked it out of his hands, and he turned around. The Deputy swung it, burying the sharp head in the man's gut. He gasped, when America removed it he fell down dead.

"Kim, it's Deputy Jones, are you alright?"

"Y-yeah. I'm fine."

There was another crash out front. "Kim, stay put. Your husband, Grace, and I will handle the cult."

"Okay."

Taking her new axe, America headed back outside. More peggies rolled up in cars and ATVs. Unholstering the Farmhand, America fired the gun one-handed and blasted a pair of peggies off a four-wheeler. She fired the second slug at the back of a pickup truck and the spread got the two in the back. She ducked behind a truck when the remaining two cultists shot at her.

Boomer rushed out and munched on the peggie that got out of the front passenger seat. His friend from the driver seat tried to save him, but America fired her shotgun again, hitting him in the face. Boomer finished his cultist by gnawing on his neck.

"Jones, you need to get back over here. Peggies are starting to swarm." Grace called.

"I'm coming!" America ran off, Boomer in tow. She ran through the hangar and sure enough more peggies had arrived. Above in the sky Nick was still fighting with the Chosen. He was on the peggie's tail, firing his minigun.

"These guy's ain't so tough! Have some more red-hot lead, you peggie assholes!"

America took cover behind some barrel drums. She poked out and fired the Farmhand, downing a peggie in one shot, then downed the second one with the other. As she reloaded, Grace gave her support from the roof, her green laser-dot could be seen flashing on peggie chests, before they were shot with surgical precision.

The familiar hum of a spinning machinegun went off in the sky. Both Resistance and cult alike looked up into the sky and saw a grey plane smoke and burn as it descended from the sky. It crashed off into the distance, away from them all with a resounding boom.

"I got him! Holy shit I got him!" Nick laughed with elation. "HAHA! Chosen my ass!"

"Nice work, Nick." Grace complimented. She stayed focused on her work though and pulled the trigger, killing peggies.

The Deputy, fueled by Nick's victory, poked out again and fired her double-barrel. Two blasts knocked back peggies, making blood fly from their bodies. That was when she saw something red move on her body. She thought it was blood spatter at first, but then she realized it was twitching over her body.

"SNIPER!" America warned with a shout. She dived into cover, just barely avoiding the bullet meant for her heart. Even Grace had to get down as snipers started firing on her position.

On the far side of the runway, opposite of the hangar, peggies were on the roofs of the other hangars. Their red laser-dots moved all over, looking for targets to shoot. Grace and America had to press themselves against their cover and hope they couldn't see them.

"Stay back! I'm gonna light up these snipers on the roof." Nick said over the radio.

Carmina flew overhead, gathering the attention of the snipers.

"It's a beautiful day for strafing!" Nick came down on them with a storm of bullets. The snipers fired back, but it was too late and they were shredded by bullets.

"Nice going, Nick!" America cheered.

"I see more peggies coming down the runway!" The Pilot warned.

"I see 'em." Grace said, spying through the scope of her rifle. She saw three trucks driving fast and coming fast.

Grace led and lined up her shot, carefully calculating, and fired. The shot killed the driver, splattering his blood against the window and causing the truck to swerve out of control. The passenger tried to grab the wheel and save themselves, but he wasn't quick enough. The truck toppled, and the vehicle behind them inadvertently crashed into them, making it spin.

The remaining trucks skidded to a halt in front of the hangar. All the cultists got out and started shooting. The gunners in the back opened fire immediately causing the two fighters to hunker down.

"Don't you guys move! I'm gonna drop a bomb on these guys!"

America and Grace did as they were told and kept their heads down. Nick came from the east, descending down slightly. The peggies were too focused on America and Grace that they barely heard the roaring engine of Carmina. Once plenty of them stopped shooting long enough to hear the floatplane coming it was too late.

Nick flew over them, timing it just right and dropped a bomb right on top of them. The explosion left a crater between the two decimated cars and annihilated the peggies.

Peggies pulled themselves out of the toppled truck and saw the devastated remains of their brothers and sisters. They turned their heads to see America and Grace holding their guns threateningly and Nick's plane flying overhead.

They didn't hesitate and ran for the hills. Making the fighters smirk.

"Ha-HA! Look at them run. That'll teach those peggies to mess with my family. Thanks for your help partner, I'm comin' down. Hey, maybe you guys can help with the luggage."

After the battle, America and Grace took care of the bodies. After looting everything of value off of them, guns, ammo, money, materials, they piled them over near the entrance of the runway and burned them. The destroyed scrap would take more time and hands. America intended to call the Resistance to help, as well as watch over the place. Nick said when he and his family were gone he'd leave the place to the Resistance. Better they have it then John Seed.

When the bodies were taken care of, they settled down in the hangar, had a cool brewski from the minifridge and took a load off. Well, America and Boomer did. Grace disassembled her new golden gun, cleaned it and put it back together again, only to repeat the process. She didn't like to relax like other people did. Though she did enjoy a beer.

"The Resistance should be here soon to guard this place. It's nice that we got enough people now that we can just call and have people come."

"Yeah." Grace screwed on the gun's muzzle before continuing. "Though I got to say, it's sad to see the Ryes go."

"What do you mean?" America questioned.

"The Ryes have been around since before the founding of Fall's End. They're a special part of Hope County."

"Maybe that's why the cult was so eager to get them to join. Nothin' like corrupting community symbols to reduce morale among people."

"Maybe. I can't blame Nick for leaving. Lots of people fled to protect their families, but the Ryes are somethin' special. Just sad to see them go."

America stood up from the old couch. "I should probably go check on how they're doing." Grace nodded. "Boomer, you watch my beer for me."

The lying dog groaned in what the Deputy could only guess was casual acceptance.

America walked around the Rye Household to the front door. On the porch, she saw a pregnant Asian-American woman sitting on the porch.

"Hi." She greeted, holding her hand out for a shake. "We didn't get formally introduced. My names Kimiko Rye, but most folks call me Kim."

"Nice to meet you Mrs. R—"

She raised up her hand. "Don't call me Mrs. Makes me feel old. Kim'll do just fine."

The two shook hands.

"Nice to meet you Kim. Deputy Jones at your service. Or America if you don't want to use my title."

"Nick told me all about what you and Grace did. You saved me personally. Thank you so much." Kim smiled gratefully.

"Just doing my job, ma'am."

Kim chuckled. "Well, you should get a raise. Nng!"

America moved to the woman's side. "Are you alright?" She asked concernedly.

"Yeah . . . yeah. Baby just kicked—she's been getting' all riled up lately. Urgh—doctor says she could be due in a couple weeks now."

"A girl? Congratulations."

"Heh, yeah. Try tellin' Nick that. We got photographic evidence and everything and he still thinks we're having a boy."

"He doesn't want a girl?"

"Nick'll love our baby no matter what . . . he just doesn't want to change the brand name of the business. Plus he really wants to name her Nick, says it's a "field tested name." I won't let him."

America laughed. "That's adorable."

"Heh heh, yeah." Kim started looking around the place. Like really look around, as if she was seeing it for the very first time. "I'm really going to miss this place. So many wonderful places and memories."

"I haven't been able to enjoy it. Too busy fighting the peggies."

"That's right, Nick said you're new to Hope County. Sorry you have to see it in this state."

"Nothing you need to apologize for, ma'am."

"I just wish you could have seen this place before the cult. Grace's Shooting Range, Raptor's Peak, the Silver Lake where Nick proposed to me . . . the FANG Center where I was hoping to take my little girl to. The . . . Nick talked about the Clutch Nixon museum. And . . . the cult's taken everything haven't they?"

America nodded, wordlessly answering the future mom's worst fears.

"They corrupted it. Everything. Everything good. I can't even walk outside without feeling the cult's presence. And how many of my friends are dead or worse? I've heard so many terrible things. Hearing you guys fight outside, the cult so close to touching me . . ."

America was about to comfort the woman and tell her everything was going to be alright, but she was interrupted by Nick suddenly walking out the screen door, suitcase in hand.

"C'mon Kim, we're leaving." Nick nodded to the Deputy in acknowledgement.

"No."

"No?" Nick repeated surprised, but he didn't stop. He motioned America, who was equally surprised by the woman's response, to help him with the bags.

Both the Deputy and the 9-month pregnant woman followed him inside.

"Nick, this our home." Kim argued.

"Kim, you just don't understand" The pilot grabbed two bags and handed one for the Deputy to carry. His wife took the bag from her.

"Don't understand what? That they're stealing our land, kidnapping our friends and doing God knows what else? We can't just leave everything here as it is."

"I gotta keep you safe! That's all that matters."

"No, there's more here that matters then just our livelihoods. Nick, your grandfather built this place. The house, the landing strip, the hangar, and he even bought Carmina. And he did it all after fighting for his country. You really want to turn your back on that? The spirit of this place?"

Nick looked very conflicted, he wanted to argue, but words just wouldn't form. One look at his wife and he decided to move for another bag. To him, Kim was worth more. His wife blocked his way one more time, holding her hands up pleadingly before resting them on her swollen belly.

"And what about all the times we talked about handing the family business over to our daughter?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "I talked about handing off the family business to our son."

Kim brought both her hands to her hips as she held eyes with her husband " You saw the ultrasound. It's a girl."

"That was on a messy black and white TV screen. You know them things aint reliable." He looked to the Deputy for support. He found her hunched slightly and covering her smirking mouth. "What're you giggling at?"

"Nick . . ." Kim strained her tone getting back her man's attention.

A moment passed between the two. They just stared at each other as if communicating with just their eyes. America recognized these looks, saw them every time her parents were together.

Nick brought his hand to his wife's pregnant belly "I love you."

Kim smiled back at him and covered his hand with her own "Me too".

America almost felt like crying at the sight. Hell, he eyes were watery and threatened to burst any second. She hadn't seen true genuine love like that since her parents and those two definitely had reasons to split.

Nick turned and grabbed the bags placing them back by the stairs "Well Deputy, it looks like the Rye Family's diggin' in. Hey, listen, if you ever need air support, you give me a holler. You and me, we'll be like Butch and Sundance."

Kim's smile faltered a bit. "Uh, Nick they both died at the end."

Nick looked back at his wife, none the wiser. "Nah."

America chuckled at their banter. "Technically the movie freeze-frames before it ends and there was always a hint that they survived. I'll see you folks around."

As Nick headed back upstairs with the bags Kim grabbed America's hands before she was out the door and looked at her imploringly. "Please take care of him."

America looked into the woman's kind eyes and then down to her stomach.

She thought about how strongly Nick wanted to protect this woman and realized that this was something that needed to be fought for. To the death even. A family. A true loving family. As long as she still held breath, the cult would not sink their claws into the Rye's.

America placed her hand on Kim's and nodded.

 **Fall's End.**

Returning to Fall's End with both Grace and Boomer, America headed straight for the Spread Eagle. Anyone that greeted her, she just waved to. Too tired from all of the day's events.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in." Mary smirked.

Boomer growled at the mention of cat, but it lacked energy. The dog just plopped next to his owner, who took a seat at the counter. Grace took the seat to America's left, setting down her golden rifle by her leg.

"Hey, Mary." America greeted tiredly. She rested her head on her hand.

"Grace! It's so good to see you."

"You too, Mary." Grace gave a small smile. "Glad to see this place is still kickin'."

"All thanks to the Deputy here. Without her we wouldn't even be half as strong as we are."

Grace nodded. "I've heard. Her name's spreadin' around."

"And drawing more people to us. We're able to hold more locations because her deeds are inspirin' everyone. Which, by the way, congrats on taking that bastard's home and saving Nick and his family."

"It was my pleasure."

"You look exhausted, want somethin' to eat?"

"That would be fantastic, thanks." Mary handed her a menu. "I'll take the trout, and can you get me a cup of water?"

"Sure thing, hon. You're in luck, group caught a bunch of fresh ones this morning. Grace, you want anything?"

"Gimme a beer and one of Casey's famous burgers. Burn it."

"You got it. Casey! America needs the trout and Grace wants your famous burger, just the way she likes it!"

"Grace is here? Hot damn, I'll get right on it." Casey shouted from the kitchen.

"What a day." America laid her head down on the cool counter.

"I'll say."

"I feel old. Is that natural, Grace?"

"You get used to it."

"Comforting."

"Are you always this whiny at the end of the day or is it just this day in particular?"

"It just feels like this day has gone on longer than it should have. Like God just couldn't find a proper time and place to end the day."

Suddenly, America's radio crackled. Grabbing it quickly, she answered. "Hello?"

"You don't mess around do ya Dep?"

"Hey, Dutch, how've ya been?"

"Is that Dutch?" Grace asked. "Tell that old codger I said hey."

"Grace says 'Hey.'"

The old vet chuckled. "I see you've met Grace. She's as tough as they come, kid. She'll watch your back when shit hits the fan."

"So I've noticed."

"From the things I've heard you do? I bet. Takin' John Seed's Ranch has to sting. Bastard's runnin' out of places to hide. And thanks for helpin' out the Ryes. I spent a lot of nights drinkin' with Nick's old man at the Spread Eagle. He's a good kid. Take care of 'em, Deputy. That family's a symbol of hope for this place. Dutch out."

Just like that, the connection was cut.

"I feel like that man never radios for social calls."

"Dutch has some family issues. He's a man of few words, but their always meaningful."

"Can't argue that."

A bell dinged, signaling their food.

"Order up!" Casey declared.

Mary walked over to the two with hot plates in both her hands.

"Here you ladies go." She set the plates down. "And your drinks."

"Thanks, Mary."

"And something for you, Boomer." Grace placed a plate of steak by the dog, who barked thankfully, before scarfing it up.

The two started chowing down, taking solace in the first cooked meal they've had in days.

The door opens behind them and America feels something soft press against her head.

"Hey, cutie." Cassidy flipped an old lighter in front of America's face. "Need a light?"

"Hey, Cass."

"What? Not gonna flirt back?" Cass pouted.

"I'm too tired to flirt."

Grace looked oddly between the two.

Cassidy huffed and covered the old Vietnam lighter. "Fine. Then I guess I'll just give this to you now, since you aren't in the mood for our usual games."

The redhead set down an aluminum bat next to America. The silver bat was painted red, white, and blue and was decorated to look like the American flag.

"What's this?"

"It's a muffin. What do you think it is? It's a bat."

"I know it's a bat, but why are you giving this to me?"

"The house I raided—the peggies raided it first FYI—had a lot of baseball memorabilia. The peggies were gonna burn it all, but I managed to snag a few things before they could. This bat reminded me a lot of you: shining, patriotic, tough as nails—"

"And hard headed." Grace added without looking at them.

"That's right! Who are you?"

"Grace Armstrong."

"Nice to meet you—so anyway. I figured this bat would be perfect for you!"

"It also wouldn't have anything to do with my name would it?" America asked pointedly.

Cassidy seemed hesitant. "Wooould thaaat beeee baaad?"

"I'm named after my country. I've lived my whole life hearing people shout "America yeah!" mockingly. With the latest one being "Make America Great Again."

Grace actually choked on her drink for a second, but the two women ignored her. Cassidy now seemed very uncomfortable.

"Noooo. No. I just thought you'd look good swinging around the bat, your name had nothing to do with it. I swear!"

America gave the girl the stink eye for a while longer, before sighing. "Thanks for the bat. I'm sure I can use it for something."

"You can use it to beat peggie heads in!"

"I like this girl." Grace commented.

America ate the last of her fish and water and got up from her seat.

"I'm heading to bed now." She headed toward the stairs. "See you all in the morning. Boomer, come." The cattle dog followed her up the stairs.

Closing her bedroom door, America stripped down to her underwear and put on some sweats, it was going to be a cold night. She laid down all her weapons by the nightstand and kept Judgment the closest. She stared at the bed for a while, almost reluctant to get under the covers.

'I hope I won't have another nightmare.'

Before she got into bed, there was a knock at her door. Groaning, she didn't bother to get up and just shouted "Door's open!"

Cassidy walked in and closed the door.

"Cass, I really don't—"

"Shh-shh." She placed her index finger over America's lip. "I'm here to give you a massage."

America felt her anger rise. "Cassidy, I'm serious. I'm in no mood."

"I know! That's why I'm offering a massage. You've looked tired and tense since this morning and even then, you were still playfully fun. This is just to help you relax as you go to sleep."

"Cass . . ."

"Look, if you don't like it, if it doesn't do anything for ya, then I'll stop and leave you alone for the rest of the night."

Letting the offer process in her head a bit, America conceded and let Cass give her a massage.

"Excellent! You won't regret it. Just lean back and let me work my magic."

Cassidy laid back on the pillows and America leaned back on her. Cassidy started rubbing the Deputy's shoulders methodically. Digging in hard, America moaned from the rough, but pleasant touch.

"How's that feel?"

"Mmm—wonderful."

"I knew you'd think so. Just relax, darlin' and let my sweet, sweet touch lull ya to sleep."

"Heh heh. You know Cassidy, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were seducing me."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far. You're just no fun when you're all tense and tired. I want the girl who matches me shot for shot back tomorrow mornin'. Now if you really want me to seduce you, you have to buy me dinner first."

"Heh heh, I'll . . ." She yawned. "I'll keep that . . . in mind."

America drifted off to sleep with a happy smile on her face. Cassidy let her rest on her chest and gave her a smooch on the cheek.

"Sleep tight, hero. We need you at your best."

* * *

 **AN: Just in case any of you ask, here's the reason why I call the heavy gunners Goliath. I'm sure there's a word for this, but the title is supposed to have a double meaning. Goliath was known for being a giant and super strong. That applies to the heaves with their large sizes and ability to wield heavy weaponry. The name is also supposed to be humbling, a reminder that even the strongest warrior can fall to the meekest of individuals. So, it's to keep them in check and not become too prideful in their own strength.**

 **JUST TWO MORE WEEKS UNTIL NEW DAWN COMES OUT! I EXCITE!**


	9. Virtue

America woke up with a yawn and a stretch of her arms. After wiping the crud from her eyes, she looked around for the beautiful redhead that helped her get to sleep last night.

Surprising though, Cassidy wasn't around.

"Maybe she went to her own bed after I dozed off." America wondered.

Stretching one last time, America got out of bed and dressed herself. Then she grabbed all of her weapons and strapped them to her person.

"Boomer!" She called. The canine was not in sight. "Boomer! Where is that dog?"

Heading to the door, she would look for her faithful hound outside. Just as she was reaching for the knob, under her boot she heard a splash.

Looking down, America saw a pool of blood growing from the other side of the door.

She backed up when more blood started to seep from the cracks of the door. There was a loud moan coming from the door and loud bangs and scratches as if someone was trying to get in. Then she heard them: the voices.

"killer, Killer, KILLER, **KILLER!** "

The blood that started to pool around ignited like oil. America backed up and fell on the bed. Her eyes were glued to the flames and in each one she could see a familiar face. They all looked at her with anger and accusation.

The flesh melted from the faces and became fiery skulls. They shot from the fires like bats from hell and began to circle her. America clutched her ears tightly, trying to drown out their hateful jeers. Their tempo increased by the second, getting louder and louder. No matter how hard she tried they just wouldn't shut up.

Finally, she just couldn't take it anymore. Taking Judgment out of its holster, placing to her head, cocking the hammer and pulled the trigger.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Hey! HEY! It's okay! America calm down it's okay!"

Cassidy tried to get the pour girl under control. The Deputy was flailing her arms around, shaking her head and kicking her legs. Cass grabbed the screaming woman's wrists. She brought her head near America's and just shushed her gently. When she calmed down just a little Cassidy let go of her and started stroking her hair.

When she came down from her panic attack, America started hyperventilating, which slowly was reduced to short, harsh, deep breaths.

"You're okay now. You're safe America."

A response wasn't given. She just tried to relax by leaning into the redhead's body. After a couple minutes passed America had calmed down.

"What happened? You scared me awake there."

"Nothing, just nightmares." America breathed. Her hand was over her eyes. Peeking through them she saw her faithful companion staring at her.

Boomer whined from the end of the bed. His eyes looking up sadly at her in concern from the edge.

"I've had nightmares before, America. Bobo the clown still haunts my dreams to this day. But yours? Only kind of nightmares that make you scream like that are like my Papa's."

America turned her neck and looked at her.

"You got demons floating around in your head girl. You wanna talk about it?"

America opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. When her heart stopped pounding a mile a second, she got off the bed and got changed.

"It's cool." Cassidy sat cross-legged on the bed. "I know it's not easy talking about that shit. Military family." America was actually relieved that Cass didn't try to push and that she didn't hurt the woman's feelings. "How long have you had nightmares?"

"Since the night the peggies attacked." She was surprised how quickly she responded.

Cass whistled. "That recent, huh? I'll be damned, no one would have been able to figure that out with the way you hold yourself."

"I'm tough."

"Hm! No one can deny that. Still though you should talk to someone. My Papa, and Pastor Jerome would listen. Hell, Casey too, that dude's got some weird history from what I've heard him mumble."

"What about Grace?"

"Mmm, she doesn't strike me as the talkative type. Listening sure but I think she has her own problems at the moment."

America nodded. There was a long silence between them.

"OR you could just use a distraction!"

"Distraction?"

"Yeah! Do something for you. Have an hour of fun, doing whatever it is you want to do."

"We're in the middle of a war Cass."

"I know, but sometimes you need to unwind. I'm not saying take the whole day off, just take an hour of your day to do something to take the edge off. Go hunting, fish, make a meal, fix a car or—"

"I've never been to the Clutch Nixon museum."

"Really? You want to see stuff about that weirdo?"

America turned around and narrowed her eyes. "I mean, yeah! The Clutch Nixon Museum, great idea. Though who knows what condition that place is in now."

"Still I'd like to see it. Didn't get the chance to when I first came to Hope County."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

"We?"

"Yeah, I'm coming with ya today."

"But what about the lighters?"

"I'll get 'em tomorrow. Right now, this day's all about you."

"Well . . . I'm glad you're coming with, but Grace and I are supposed to lead an assault on the Sunrise Farms today."

"Then after that?"

"Um . . . I guess just fighting the peggies whenever."

"Then off to the Sunshine Farms then to the Clutch Nixon Museum!"

America laughed mirthfully. Cass had such an infectious attitude.

Boomer nudged her hand, making sure she was okay. The dog was the only one that knew she had constant nightmares. Sometimes he'd snuggled up with her during one of her nightly fits. She smiled and scratched his head, telling him that things were fine now.

America scrounged up all her weapons and fastened them to her person. She was about to head out the door until-

"Hey! Don't forget your Star Spangled Basher."

"My wha—" Cass held out the aluminum bat she gave her last night. The one decorated like an American flag. "Really? Star Spangled Basher?"

"What? It's an awesome name, don't you try and deny it."

Rolling her eyes, America took the bat and headed out with Cass and Boomer in tow. They searched for Grace and then headed back out into the fray.

. . .

Chandra thought she had the perfect life. Friends, a hard-working job, an adorable dog, property of her own, a loving husband, and a true God-given purpose.

How blind she used to be! All of that was nothing compared to the true God-given life she has now with the Project at Eden's Gate.

She had never known true happiness until she met the Father.

At first, she was angry with him and his whole "cult" as she used to call them. She still felt shameful of that. Eden's Gate was buying up a lot of property and were looking to buy some of Sunrise Farm's land. Hard times were on them and both, Chandra and her husband, Mike, reluctantly sold.

Little by little they sold more and more. The money was good, no it was great, beyond generous even! But it felt . . . wrong. Soon they were even selling their belongings to Eden's Gate. Mike was upset about it but seemed more content then not. She, on the other hand, was losing patience.

So, one day she marched up to one of Eden's Gate's convents and demanded to see the Father. No one stopped her and more surprisingly, the Father himself came to her.

She laid into him, shouted at him, cursed him, nearly hit him, but she was controlled enough to refrain. When she was all done, she was panting and Joseph just stood there, unfazed.

And then he spoke. Serene was what she remembered the most about his voice. He gently took her by the hand and showed her everything he was working toward. She still remembered all the smiling faces, the hard-working people, same hard-working people like her and Mike, but with more purpose. Not just working for a paycheck. So many people, happy and living freely. Joseph—The Father—revealed his vision . . . and she loved it.

Afterwards, life just wasn't the same. Life felt so unfulfilling without Eden's Gate. All the work she did felt empty, all the friends she had appeared lost and spiteful, even her husband . . . it felt like there was no love anymore. No true love, like what the Father or the Project promised.

So, she went back. Again and again, she returned to them, more different—more fulfilled. Her husband saw her metamorphosis and turned from her—he fought her.

She remembered there were tears when she dropped the worthless wedding band at his feet on the floor of their kitchen. She remembered hearing sobs as the man called her time and again, begging her to return to their meaningless marriage. She remembered the pouring tears as she shot Mike in the heart when he refused to join them or give up his remaining possessions.

A mercy. A favor really, to the man that once brought her happiness. False happiness, but happiness, nonetheless. Better he die now, then suffer in the Collapse. Unlike him, there were no tears. What did she have to be sad about? Her husband was in a better place and she had a true purpose.

The Sunshine Farms were once her pride and joy, now they were just a means to improve the cult. Admittedly, she was a bit sad the place would be destroyed in the Collapse, but she would begin a new life in the New World.

Chandra's reminiscing was suddenly interrupted. Someone shouted and discharged their firearm from over near the burnt house and trailer. She frowned, another sinner was in their midst. Trying to steal from the good people. From the Father!

"Yancy! Where do you got eyes on the target?" Chandra shouted up at the sniper on the barn's roof.

"I see her! It's Deputy Jones!"

Chandra's eyes widened on apprehension. "What?!"

"She killed Oliver, Ben, and Ralph—"

"Take the fucking shot!"

Yancy wouldn't be able though as blood burst from his forehead, making him go limp. His body crashed right in front of Chandra, much to her shock.

"Shit, sniper! Get those sinners all of you!" She yelled at the top of her lungs.

She knew what the Deputy was capable of. The gall she had to arrest her beloved Father Joseph. The nerve to defy the Herald John and even ransack his home. The Deputy knew no bounds when it came to fighting the Project.

Pulling out her .44 from her waistline, Chandra took cover behind some crates, along with some of her brothers.

"Why is that demon still alive after all she's done?" A peggie asked.

"I don't know, but she's not taking this place like she did the Ranch. The Project needs this food."

A peggie's head burst with blood, shot from the sniper's weapon.

"Fuck!"

They stood up and started firing at anything that moved. In their brief attack they saw only two people. The redhead granddaughter of that baby-killer Redler and the ultimate sinner herself, Deputy Jones.

The Deputy poked out of cover and fired her gun. One of her brothers fell dead and then two more from her helpers.

"Down! Down!"

They ducked back into cover.

"Shit! Who's fucking left!?"

"I think me and Fran—"

"AHH!"

Frank was taken down by Boomer and was being mauled to death.

"Frank!"

They couldn't help Frank. Not without getting killed by the hound's masters. His last breath was right after his throat was ripped out by the dog's jaws.

"You sons of bitches!" The peggie rose up to and fired his rifle in a blind fury.

"No, don't!" Chandra tried to warn, but the man was shot in the chest, shoulder, arm, stomach and head. He fell back bloody and dead.

Chandra was all that remained. She was starting to panic, her eyes and mind moved so fast she couldn't think straight. The only thing her mind could think of to do was close her eyes and pray. So, she tossed her gun down and did just that.

"Father Joseph give me strength. Let God smile down on me and give me the power to kill these sinners."

*CLICK*

Her eyes opened and she looked up at two women leveling guns right at her head.

"God ain't hearing you today, lady." Cass said.

"Grace, are we clear?" America asked through her radio.

Between them Boomer was haunched and snarling. He was ready to tear her apart if she made a bad move.

Chandra slowly reached for her gun but felt the cold steel of a gun barrel press against her.

"Don't even try it peggie. Drop it." Cass threatened.

Chandra glowered, but did as she was commanded.

*CLICK*

She turned her head and was now face to face with the woman that has caused so much turmoil. The soul the devil spat out to wreak havoc among the good people of Eden's Gate. Her green eyes burned like ethereal fire in the sunlight. The way she glared at Chandra was filled with so much hatred. Appropriate, considering how sinful the woman was.

Chandra was ashamed to admit it, but the feeling was mutual. The Father taught them that hatred was not for pure souls, but so many had died because of this snake in the grass.

"Deputy!" Chandra growled, unable to hold back her true feelings.

"Grace says we're in the clear." America told Cass. "Which means you're our only survivor."

That hit Chandra hard. All of her new friends, her new family . . . dead?

"FUCK!" She slammed the ground with her fists. "How many more of us are you going to take, huh Deputy?!"

America winced at that but responded in stride. "As many as I have to, to stop all the killing."

Chandra laughed. "That's rich coming from the biggest murderer in the whole damn county!"

Cassidy this time responded in anger on behalf of America. "You're the murderers here! And kidnappers! And mutilators! Paranoid . . . drugged out . . . hippie-dippie trash—"

"That's enough Cass."

"We're just trying to survive and help those see the true light. It's you lot who are stumbling around in the dark, killing a whole lot of innocent people without knowing the facts."

"The facts?" Cass chuckled humorlessly.

"Enough." America raised Judgment to shoot her pointblank.

Grace called though, interrupting them.

"What's going on here? Just shoot the mother-? . . .Chandra?"

"Hello, Grace." Chandra said dismally.

"You know each other?" America asked.

"She and her husband were the previous owners of this place. Till she handed it over to Joseph fucking Seed."

Chandra sprang up and got int Grace's face. The three pointed their guns at her.

"Don't you speak ill of the Father."

"Where's Big Mike Chandra? Where's your husband?"

"Ex-husband. My life belongs to the Father and Eden's Gate now."

"Where is Big Mike, Chandra?" Grace asked with more force.

The group was led by Chandra out into the fields. They followed a dirt road that cut through the crops and ended at a plot of land in the middle of the field. This area was called the Sunrise Threshing, where they would keep the shredded grain. There was a shack, a hay shed, a couple of silos and a garage.

Leaning against a bail of hay was Big Mike. Flies buzzed around his grey skin. There was a little bullet hole right where his heart was and the word "GREED" was carved onto his forehead. Judging from the smell and decomposition he's been dead for a couple days.

Grace kneeled down to look at him and sighed sadly. Reaching out she closed his eyes.

"You did this didn't you?" America accused.

"I did." Chandra admitted without a hint of remorse.

America grabbed her by the hem of her wool shirt. "Why?! He was your husband, wasn't he?"

"Ex-husband. And he refused to cooperate with John. His tithes were becoming littler and littler and he wouldn't even give up his custom truck. There is no place in the New World for selfishness."

"Friends turning on friends. Family turning on family. Spouses murdering each other in cold blood. And you people want me to stop fighting you."

As America continued to berate Chandra and Grace mourned Mike, Cassidy saw something peculiar at the corner of her eye.

A shadow . . . moving slightly on the shadow of the silo. She turned around and saw a peggie lying down on the silo with a sniper rifle. A red dot moved along America's chest.

"Sniper!"

Cassidy rushed the Deputy to the ground. Just as the shot went off, the round impacted Chandra in the chest who was accidentally turned to take the shot.

Boomer was barking in alarm now. Grace was on immediate alert and locked on to the shooter. Cassidy and America started rolling in the dirt, trying to offset the shooter. Singular rounds were shot off, missing the two just by inches.

Grace found her target and fired. The cultist's body rolled off the silo.

"You two okay?" Grace asked.

"I'm okay." America said breathlessly.

"Never better." Cassidy smiled while lying on top of America.

Boomer ran over to his owner and started licking her face, happy that she was alive.

They gathered themselves around the dying Chandra. The round went through her lungs and now she was choking on her own blood. Her eyes stared at the three women, tears streaming down her face. Then she died with a shallow breath. None of them were sure what she was thinking in her last moment. Maybe she felt regret for what she did? Maybe she felt betrayed dying at the hands of her fellow cultists? Or maybe she was just cursing the three?

"Okay, it's official. We need a fucking break."

"What?" Grace looked at Cass incredulously.

"A break! I don't know about you Grace, but that was a little closer than I would like."

"It's a war, Cass. Just another day."

"All the more reason we should do something fun!" She wrapped her arm around America's shoulders. "Which is why I'm taking this girl to see the Clutch Nixon Museum."

Grace looked at America, asking if she was serious. "Deputy?"

America looked down at Chandra's cooling body, blood was still leaking from the wound and mouth, forming a puddle.

"I . . . I could use a distraction, Grace."

Grace stared at America for an uncomfortable amount of time. A minute maybe, but the soldier had some piercing eyes. Just when the Deputy thought Grace would call her out, she was surprised to see her nod approvingly. Understandingly.

"I get. You guys go. I'll stay here and help the folks set up."

Even Cass was surprised. "Ya sure Grace?"

"Yeah. I'm sure."

America smiled. "Thanks Grace. Well, I guess we'll get going then."

"We gonna walk all the way there. I mean its not far, but it is a ways."

Grace chuckled. "Well, if you need some wheels . . ." She looked over at the Sunrise garage.

Opening the garage door, both America's and Cass' eyes widened, and their jaws fell open. Inside the garage was a beast of a pickup truck.

A 2012 Kimberlite TCZ with an amazing custom paintjob. It had a gradient color scheme that went from silver-grey to dark grey, with rectangular streaks of black all over the body, with the crowing detail being the glaring blue eagle on the side. Behind the eagle head were three bands of bold blue that stretched over the tailgate, representing wings.

"You may as well go out in style. I'm sure Big Mike wouldn't mind you taking it."

. . .

America, Cassidy and Boomer took the truck, that they lovingly dubbed: Blue Eagle and drove out to the museum.

The place was a typical one-story building, the color of marble, and had the sign "Clutch Nixon Museum" in big bold letters right over the main door. Red, white, and blue American motif decorated almost every inch of the place, but what really made it stick out, was the ten-foot statue of Clutch Nixon himself, standing out front for all to see, dressed in his daredevil uniform with sparklers spraying out around him.

As they got closer the two resistance members could see a couple of peggies beating the crap out of a black man.

"Well, now that just doesn't seem nice."

"No, Cass." America spun the cylinder of her gun. "Not nice at all." Poking out of the window, America fired Judgement, killing the closest peggie.

Cass picked up the speed and rammed right into the startled second peggie. He was dead on impact.

They got out of the truck and started helping the injured man.

"Oh, thank you. Thank you, for assisting me."

"Our pleasure, sir." America said, cutting his binds.

"You must be with the Resistance." His eyes focused on the deputy badge clipped to her belt. "And you must be Deputy Jones. Oh, I've heard so much about you."

"What's your name, sir?"

"Ah, where are my manners—Darrel Grammar. I'm the curator of this fine American establishment."

"You're a Clutch Nixon fan?"

"Oh, of course! Clutch Nixon is one of, if not the most, amazing stuntman in history! And the most insane I might add. Which is a huge bonus to me, I love psychologically unstable characters." He chuckled but then looked at the dead peggie bodies. "Well, except Eden's Gate, Joseph Seed can go suck a cock."

Cass put her arm on America, leaning against her. "We can agree on that. You'll be happy to know though that America is not just a peggie killer, but she's also a fan of Clutch Nixon."

"Really?" Darrel clapped his hands excitedly.

"Yeah. I was hoping to see his museum actually."

Darrel's mood did a 180 and now he was frowning. "I'm sorry to say, but, because of the cult, the museum has seen better days.

Darrel led them into the museum, opening the big red door, the whole place was completely ransacked. The walls were riddled with holes from weapons fire, glass littered the ground as well as a bunch of photos, papers, and paintings. There were exhibits where something would be displayed for all to see but were instead empty. They were big enough that you could drive the Blue Eagle into them.

"I'm sorry you have to see this place in such a state for your first time. I tried repelling the peggies, but they overwhelmed the place." He pointed to a couple of people lying by a wall, killed by firing squad. "They took all of Clutch Nixon's vehicles and paraphernalia. I can't even imagine what they're going to do with them."

"Probably dismantle them if not use them to attack civilians." Cass said offhandedly.

"OH HO!" Darrel cried.

America glared at Cass for making the man cry. She shrugged awkwardly.

"Mr. Grammar, do you know where the peggies took the vehicles? Did they say anything while you were their captive?"

"No, they just drove off with them. I have no idea where they could have taken them."

"Maybe Nick's seen 'em. He's got a bird's eye view of the whole valley."

"Not a bad idea, Cass." America grabbed her radio. "Hey Nick, ya flying around?"

"If I ain't with Kim I'm ruling the sky! Whatchya need Dep?"

"Have you seen any of the Clutch Nixon vehicles roaming around?"

"No! Don't tell me the Peggies messed with the Clutch Nixon Museum!"

"Fraid so."

"Sonsofbitches! Got no respect for history or culture!"

"I concur, Nick!"

"Hey, Darrel, good to hear from ya. Anyway, I thought I saw the Uncle Sam drive off but I thought my mind was playing tricks on me. I saw it head over to the water reservoir."

"Thanks Nick don't worry we'll get it back."

"Damn straight. Oh also, this might interest you, I saw a black car drivin' around that'a way, it's heading in the direction of the Uncle Sam. It had a lot of Peggie crap all over it."

"Why would that interest me?"

"Because I saw it run over several peggies."

"Come again?"

"It's runnin' 'em over! Flattening them. Making roadkill out of any Peggies it comes across. I ain't never seen road rage like this dude. Everywhere it goes it leaves a trail of dead bodies."

"We'll look into it, Nick, thanks."

"Ten-four." He signed off.

"Well, Mr. Grammar, we might just get back some of Clutch Nixon's legacy."

Darrel practically hugged America. "Oh, thank you, thank you, Deputy. I can't properly express my jubilation. Whenever you get them, feel free to drive them around a little. I'm sure Clutch Nixon wouldn't mind a fan of his driving his vehicles. Especially if they were to use them against Eden's Gate."

. . .

Apparently, the reservoir was the location of Clutch Nixon's first stunt. The infamous, flamulous, Baptism of Fire. Where he drove his 1967 Kimberlite ZT all over the place while completely on fire. He would use the water of the reservoir to douse some of the flames before plunging the thing into the lake water. It was said that when he and his car emerged from the water, the TRUE, daredeviling, Clutch Nixon was born.

On the other side of the reservoir, several meters away from the glaring eyes of the peggies, America and Cass were looking through their binoculars. They could see peggies all over the place, moving green crates and barrels of bliss.

"That's a lot of Bliss." Cassidy said. "What the hell are they doing?"

America looked up and saw a couple of peggies haul out the bliss from the warehouse. "Looks like they were storing the Bliss in those buildings. They're dumping the bliss into the water."

"Fuckers. You see Clutch Nixon's car?"

"No and no sign of that black car Nick told us about either."

The growling of an engine suddenly caught their attention. In the distance they could see a dust cloud being kicked up and heading right towards them.

America and Cassidy got up and got ready for a fight. The black car suddenly skidded, kicking up more dust and drifted to a halt a few feet from them. America and Cass coughed from the amount of dust they inhaled. They had to rub the dirt from their eyes to see again.

When they regained their senses, they were staring down the barrel of a pump-action shotgun. Holding the weapon was a young man in his twenties. Dirty Blonde hair that was slicked back, but two strands stuck up on the side giving him the appearance of having little horns. He had handsome features, with blue eyes, a button nose, and chiseled jaw and cheeks. The thing about his appearance that surprised America the most was the fact he was wearing a Deputy's uniform, with a bullet proof vest over it, and the badge pinned to his belt.

"And who are you ladies?" He asked.

Before they could say anything, Boomer ran up to the guy excitedly. "Bark! Bark!

"Boomer?"

Boomer jumped on the guy and started licking his face. The man laughed and pet the happy hound.

"Boomer! You're okay, so good to see you—who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?" The dog laid on his back as he received a belly rub.

Seeing the faithful dog trust the guy, the two women put their weapons away. Realizing he was being watched, the young man stood up and asked them a question.

"So, why's Boomer with you ladies?"

America was about to answer, but Cassidy cut in.

"Hold up! You come speeding down the road like some kind of maniac, throw dirt in our faces, point a gun at us, and then ask us who we are? How about you tell us who you are first!"

The guy actually smirked, which pissed Cassidy off more.

"I suppose that's the polite thing to do, mom didn't raise no neanderthal. James Heller. Deputy James Heller."

America raised an eyebrow. "Heller? Wait, you're that deputy that Hudson told me about. The one that's too much of a loose cannon."

"Hudson?" He gave her a once over and saw the badge. "You're the rookie! The one that took my place on the Seed Arrest."

Cassidy looked between the two in confusion. "What are you guys talking about?"

"I was supposed to be the one to go with Sherriff Whitehorse to arrest Joseph Seed, but I was kicked off at the last minute. So, he signed on the rookie instead."

"I was told he was too much of a hot head to be let on such a mission. Hudson said you were more likely to shoot Joseph instead of cuff him." America explained

"So what? Maybe if I was there to shoot him, none of this would have happened." James scowled.

"If you were there, you'd have gotten us all killed." America tested.

"Maybe, but then so many people wouldn't be suffering right now."

"Like you know that?!"

"You _don't_ know that!"

"Enough!" Cassidy pushed the two apart and tried to keep the peace.

America sighed. "Who are we kidding? It doesn't matter who went. What matters is what we do now in the situation we're in." America reasoned.

James crossed his arms. "Yeah. I get that."

"So, what happened? After the cult started their Reaping. Where were you?" America asked curiously.

"I was at the Sheriff's Department." He reminisced. "Almost everyone was nervous about the mission. We thought Whitehorse should have brought more of us, but he said that he didn't want to spook the peggies. Figured bringing a greenhorn was a good way of showing them we meant no harm."

"Wouldn't have mattered. The Marshal was antagonizing enough to be his own army."

"Well, I think the real reason Whitehorse didn't bring more with him is because he wasn't sure who he could trust. Hudson and Pratt were always clean, loyal cops, but everyone else?" He shook his head. "An hour after you guys left, there were shouts, followed by gun shots. Everyone scrambled, taking cover, pulling out their firearm. Cops were shooting cops, and no one knew what the hell was going on."

"Nancy was a peggie spy. She praised Joseph from the radio after our copter crashed."

"Yeah, I saw her leading some of the other dirty cops. I tried leading people out, but Nancy and her backstabbers found us. I was shot and left for dead, not sure about the others, but I think some survived. If they haven't joined up, they're prisoners of the cult."

"John's got Hudson I know that for sure."

"I saw the vid." He continued. "I came too when morning rose. Found the whole Department deserted, bodies everywhere, the armory raided. Bastards even took my car." He balled his hand and pointed his thumb towards the car.

The vehicle was a 1970 Kimberlite ZZT. It was in very poor condition, chipped black paint, dry mud spattered on the front and fenders. It looked like someone had left it in a dump for years and only just now took it out. The peggies seemed to have gotten their mitts on it too because it was covered in their tags. The Eden's Gate Cross was graffitied in red on the hood and "WRATH" spray-painted on the sides.

"As you can see I got it back. Killed a few peggies to get it, but that was just a bonus. I call it "The Cultbuster."

"You might want to get rid of the tags. Nick wasn't sure if you were a friendly or not."

"Nick Rye? How is he? His family?"

"They're fine. They were in a bit of a bind yesterday, but I helped them."

"America here's been a huge influence. She liberated Fall's End, found Grace Armstrong, helped Nick Rye, adopted Boomer, and destroyed a lot of John's things. America's practically a hero." Cass praised, making the girl bashful.

"Falls' End? Is . . . is Mary May alright?"

"Yeah. She's helping lead the Resistance." America answered.

"Heh, of course she would. That woman's a spitfire."

"You've obviously been around, Heller. Where've you been?"

"Fightin' the cult just like you. Though I guess not on the same scale. Been tracking down the cult's Bliss stashes. That stuff empowers them, a shit ton of it in the Henbane. My latest intel told me the cult's got a huge stash here at the reservoir."

"Your intel was right." America offered her binoculars. James took them and looked through the lenses. "The peggies are all over the place, getting ready to dump their loads."

"Is that why you guys are here?"

"Not quite, though we're going to destroy them regardless."

"Our original goal was to get back Clutch Nixon's muscle car." Cass said.

"Those bastards raided the Clutch Nixon Museum?! Oh, now that's too far." He stormed off toward his car.

"Did you have a plan for taking them on?"

"Yep!" He popped the trunk open and started fishing around. America walked around and saw the whole thing filled with weaponry. "Gonna go in there, guns blazing, and destroy all that bliss."

"That's your plan? You're just gonna wing it?! Are you crazy?"

"It's worked out well so far." He pulled out and AK-47 and looked it over. "If you want, I could use a fellow Deputy watching my back." He held out the AK to her. "Come on, Rookie, walk a little on the wild side."

Looking at the gun, America sighed and took it. She turned to Cass. "You stay back in case we need our asses pulled out of the fire."

"Aye aye." The redhead saluted mockingly.

"WOO! Let's do this! Hop in Deputy."

They got in the car, James turned the key and started the ignition. Not even a second after it started, James shifted the stick and shot off like a bullet. America was pushed into her seat by the force of the speed and she nervously put on her seatbelt. As they neared the construction site, James was fiddling around with the radio, his eyes taken off the road.

"James! The road!" She said nervously.

"Just a second. I'm finding my jam."

"James!"

"Ah, here we are." He turned up the volume so everyone could hear it.

 _Whoa, Black Betty (Bam-ba-Lam)  
Whoa, Black Betty (Bam-ba-Lam)_

"Let's ride!"

The Cultbuster sped up another ten miles and plowed into two cultists. The entire site was in a frenzy now, they tried shooting the speeding muscle car. It was so fast though, they barely had time to aim and they missed. All the while, James kept crashing into the crates of bliss, making them explode into green dust.

 _Black Betty had a child (Bam-ba-Lam)  
The damn thing gone wild (Bam-ba-Lam)  
She said, "I'm worryin' outta mind" (Bam-ba-Lam)  
The damn thing gone blind (Bam-ba-Lam)  
I said "Oh, Black Betty" (Bam-ba-Lam)  
Whoa, Black Betty (Bam-ba-Lam)_

"Protect the bliss!" A peggie shouted.

James crashed into another stack of bliss tanks. "What are you waiting for Rook? Fire at will!"

"This is fucking crazy!" She rolled down the window and fired the AK-47. It was hard to see since they were moving so fast and kicking up a lot of dust, but all she had to do was spray and pray and 8 times out of 10 she hit something.

 _Oh, Black Betty (Bam-ba-Lam)  
Whoa, Black Betty (Bam-ba-Lam)  
_

 _She really gets me high (Bam-ba-Lam)  
You know that's no lie (Bam-ba-Lam)  
She's so rock steady (Bam-ba-Lam)  
And she's always ready (Bam-ba-Lam)  
Whoa, Black Betty (Bam-ba-Lam)  
Whoa, Black Betty (Bam-ba-Lam)_

"YEEHAW!" James ran over more peggies, shattering their skeletons on impact. Fresh blood coated the dry dirt on the Cultbuster. He could feel the tires crunch the bastards right under him as the car hitched. A peggie got launched onto the windshield, the impact split his head open. James just clicked the windshield wipers and fluid to clean it off and knock off the peggie. Every time he hit a bliss tank, there was a small explosion that made his teeth rattle. He loved it!

America fired her assault rifle at any strays she could see. Several bursts got a peggie in the head, another in the chest, crippled a third, which James ran over, two more shot in the head, and she was pretty sure she got one guy in the arm, he bled out.

 _Whoa, Black Betty (Bam-ba-Lam)  
Whoa, Black Betty (Bam-ba-Lam)_

 _She's from Birmingham (Bam-ba-Lam)  
Way down in Alabam' (Bam-ba-Lam)  
Well, she's shakin' that thing (Bam-ba-Lam)  
Boy, she makes me sing (Bam-ba-Lam)  
Whoa, Black Betty (Bam-ba-Lam)  
Whoa, Black Betty  
Bam-ba-lam_

"That's all the bliss tankers. Let's clean house." He pulled out a .44 Magnum and rolled down the window.

He drove the Cultbuster to the center of the construction yard and drift spin it. The two pointed their weapons outside and fired at anything wearing white. Many peggies fell to the onslaught of bullets, while others were hit and broken by the out of control muscle car.

The last of the peggies tried fighting back, but they were blinded by the dust clouds the Cultbuster produced and were coughing uncontrollably. Making them even easier targets for the two law enforcers.

The Cultbuster finally came to a stop when all the peggies were dead.

"We get 'em all?"

"YAAAAAAHHHH!"

A single peggie ran up and fired a shotgun at the windshield. He was surprised to see the pellets were stopped by the glass. The peggie looked sheepishly at the two Deputy's and slowly put down his shotgun and lift his arms in surrender.

"Nope." He fired his magnum. "Now we got 'em all."

When the coast was clear, Cassidy drove down in the Blue Eagle with Boomer. America and James were standing near the Clutch Nixon pedestal, looking out over the reservoir and saw a ton more of bliss tanks.

"That was incredible!" Cass cheered. Boomer ran up to America and started licking her face. "I ain't ever seen moves like that since the Dukes of Hazard and Fast and the Furious."

"Shucks you're making me blush. Go on, keep talking about my driving skills." James replied cheekily.

Cassidy ignored him though. "I'm glad we got rid of the bliss, but did you find the car?"

"Yeah." America pointed to an open trailer, showing the striped, red, white, and blue Kimberlite ZT.

"Man, that thing is so . . ."

"Cool!" America gushed. Cass gave her a "are you serious?" look "And I get to drive this back to the museum."

"Yeah lucky you." James said jealously. "But first we got to deal with all this bliss. Can't leave it out here for nature to handle or for the cult to come back and finish the job."

Cass looked down in the reservoir. Still a lot more bliss to deal with. "That's a lot of bliss. You just gonna run it over like the rest?"

"Yes." James said slightly annoyed, but not at her question. "That's what the rookie and I were discussing. We don't want that stuff getting into the water. So just running it over may not help. However, the stuff is highly flammable . . ."

"So . . . you're gonna burn it?"

"Kind of." James looked pensively at the Deputy who had stars in her eyes from looking at the Uncle Sam.

"Oh no."

 **A Few Minutes Later**

"This is nuts." Cassidy said.

"I agree, Rook. No one's done the Baptism of Fire since Clutch Nixon himself."

"That is until today!" America revved up the Uncle Sam's engine. It purred like a lion, loud and beautiful.

"And you ladies call me crazy." James muttered.

"Give me a countdown!"

Cass and James looked at each other before obliging.

"3, 2, 1, GO!"

America tossed a lit match and the alcohol they dumped on the car ignited. America sped off into the reservoir.

"Woo! Look at her go!" James commented.

Uncle Sam's tires kicked up a lot of dirt. America was surprised by the amount of power in the old car's engine. Already she nearly lost control a couple of times, it was difficult to keep the machine on road. Like trying to keep a wild horse from bucking off the rider. But her nervousness shifted more to the continuing engulfing flames.

Thankfully, splashes from running over some of the deep puddles kept some of the flames at bay.

She braced as she collided with the first set of bliss tanks. The car jerked from both the impact and the small bliss-explosion. Amazingly, the car was in good condition, hardly a bump or chip of paint. Adrenaline rushing through her veins now, America pressed the gas and went faster.

James, Cassidy and Boomer couldn't help but be filled with excitement. They saw the Deputy swerve on the dirt and hit every bliss tank in her path. The fire was spreading more and each time she hit the tanks, they exploded in bursts of fire, with the bliss dust disintegrating on contact. Then she would hit a large puddle and a bit of the fire would be doused.

The Uncle Sam surfed over a hill and ran over a few bliss barrels, which were like fire works when she ran over them, creating a loud "Bang" sound. Like giant noise makers.

She drifted and headed for a ramp. The Uncle Sam flew through the air, over a hill and crashed into a plethora of bliss crates, creating a bigger explosion then expected, but the car and America were still fine.

From a distance the car looked like a bonfire on wheels. America drove the Uncle Sam back to the construction site, circled around it and headed straight for the highest ramp.

Feeling the heat all around her, America pressed the peddle all the way to the floor. She hit the ramp, flew far and high into the air, looking like a burning comet and plunged into the lake.

James, Cassidy, and Boomer ran to the lake's edge and looked for any sign of America.

"Uh, I don't know much about Clutch Nixon, did he himself come out of the water at the end? Or did his whole car come out?" Cassidy asked.

But like a mighty sea creature, the Uncle Sam crept out of the lake and stopped right in front of them. Water poured and dripped off every inch of the daredevil car. The driver door opened, releasing gallons of water and even a few lake trout.

America stepped out with an astonished look on her face. She was just as soaked as the car.

"America? Sweety? Are you okay?"

At first she didn't say or do anything. Then the grace of a mad smile crept up on her lips.

"I have been reborn."

. . .

After dealing with the remaining bliss at the reservoir, the group returned to the Uncle Sam to Darrel, who was so happy to see it he balled. He questioned why it was soaking wet and had some scorch marks. America explained and instead of being upset such a historical treasure was used recklessly, he was thrilled that someone else had performed Clutch Nixon's Baptism of Fire . . . and lived!

America promised the curator protection and called Fall's End to send some people over to the museum. For their help and for committing such a dangerous stunt, Darrel gifted America a cassette tape of Clutch Nixon's theme song.

The group then headed back to Fall's End. James was surprised to see the town in such a thriving state. People walked around doing whatever they could to help their fellow man. His face seemed to glow when he saw the Spread Eagle's neon sign. A lot of people greeted the Deputy there, with some recognizing James and welcomed him. When the two women and dog walked in he stayed behind for a few seconds longer before going in.

"Mary! Couple of beers please."

"Sure thing, Deputy! I gotta say, you never shirk for—" The blonde bartender stopped when she saw James stand near the doorway.

The man seemed bashful as he looked at Mary, he fidgeted with his cowboy hat, whereas Mary just seemed really surprised.

"Hey, Mary."

"Hey, James."

The bartender went around the counter and hugged the deputy. He was surprised at first, but then he returned the hug.

"I'm glad to see you're alright, James." Then Mary slugs him in the arm. "Where have you been, jackass?!"

James rubbed his arm. "I've been out fighting the cult!"

"So have we!" She hit him again and again. "And the cult would have won if it weren't for America here!" She pointed to the rookie cop.

James looked at America, then back at Mary. "I'm sorry, I wasn't here. Giving you an excuse won't cut it, but please know that if I could have been here, I would have."

Mary frowned still, but her face softened, and she nodded understanding.

"I know you would've James. You're too headstrong to _not_ jump into the fire first." She punched his shoulder again, this time a bit more lightly. "I am happy to see you're alright."

"And I'm happy to see you're alright too, Mary." They both smiled at each other. "So, can I have some of Casey's famous flapjacks?"

Mary laughed, America smirked warmly, and Cass muttered "Men" under her breath.

"Come on, take a seat. You must not have had a proper meal in ages."

"Not from your five-star restaurant."

"Fuck you and thank you. You gals want something?"

"Yes, ma'am." America said.

Mary took all their orders and handed them over to the sole cook of the Spread Eagle, who quickly got to work on creating the food for the hero of Fall's End and her companions. James took a seat next to America and waited for his food, just like the others. Mary went off to take orders from other people.

"You two sure know each other well." Cass said, looking past America to look at the other deputy.

"Mary and I go way back. Went to school together, hung out together."

"Date each other?" America suggested coyly.

"Eh, once upon a time."

"What happened?"

"Fuckin' cult. Her Ma died, then her brother joined them, her Pa followed suit, then I heard her younger brother kicked it just a few weeks ago."

"Shit." Cass said surprised by the amount of death in the Fairgrave family now.

"Yeah. After all that she just wasn't interested in a relationship anymore. I pushed to keep us together, but she wasn't having it." His eyes followed the blonde around the bar and smiled. "This is the happiest I've seen her in a long time. Thanks for helping her Rookie."

America smiled. "Just doing my job."

Cass elbowed her. "You are such a goodie-two-shoes."

A bell rung, followed by Casey yelling "Order up!"

The three enjoyed a good hot meal.

Half an hour later America split from her friends and headed toward the local church. Boomer was the only one who refused to leave her side.

Church was a major thing in her life. Both her parents were always busy, leaving her to her own devices, but her Dad was around enough to take her to church. As a child she didn't see what the big deal was. Her dad taught her the importance of religion. Of faith, believing in something bigger then yourself and if not that, then at the very least taking in the good message to heart.

Getting older she found the bible's stories to be interesting and inspiring in some ways. As troubled as she was in her youth, she never lost her belief in God, nor did she ever let it rule her. Her dad taught her to respect the word, her mother, when she was around, taught her to question it. The bible was thousands of years old. Long enough for evil men and women to corrupt it over time, to bend God's word and the people to their will. Just like Joseph Seed.

Before entering, America shook off her dark thoughts of the Father, not wanting to bring her own evil into the House of God.

Inside, beds were laid out for the people who were injured. Down below she could hear rustling and talking, the people that couldn't fight, like the elderly or the children were kept safe and hidden under the church. Away from the cult and the war. It made her sad how many children had to experience this. How many of them lost family and friends and homes?

'Just another thing to be angry at the Seeds for.'

Dark thoughts crept into her head again, so she shook them off. Jerome had set up the cross again behind the plinth. Bowing her head, putting her hands together, America started to pray.

'Dear Lord, watch over Grace, Cass, Nick Rye and his family, Mary May, Pastor Jerome, and James. Protect them from the wiles and evils of the Seed family as you have me. Give me the strength as you did my mother and father when hard times called upon them. Guide my path as I continue on my journey to fight evil and protect the innocent of this valley.'

"Amen."

"Hello, Deputy Jones."

America spun around and saw the Pastor walk towards her, the good book still in hand.

"Pastor Jerome." She greeted back.

Boomer walked up to the Pastor excitedly, to which he received a nice head scratch.

"Sorry if I was interrupting your prayers. Nice to see even after all you've witnessed, that you haven't lost your faith."

"You weren't interrupting. And if I let people like Joseph and his cult shake my belief, then they've already won."

"You have a strong spirit, America. Undaunting."

"Thank you, Pastor. I'm just trying to stay strong for everyone."

"And we more than appreciate it. But you know it's okay to be vulnerable at times too?"

"Um, yeah. Of course."

"Grace came by, said that you and Cass went off to see the museum."

America was seeing something forming in the conversation and she was quick to get out of it.

"Yeah, it was fun. Listen Pastor, it's always nice to talk with you, but I have other things to do today." Going around him, she tried to leave.

"I know about your nightmares, America."

America stopped dead in her tracks and looked at the Pastor. "How did—who told—"

"No one. Grace hinted a little, but she stayed quiet. You however just gave it away."

America deflated. "It's nothing Pastor Jerome. Just nightmares. Dreams that can't hurt me."

"Oh, but they can, America. I should know, I've had them before. Remember, I served in the Gulf War?"

She rubbed her arm, looking away. "Yeah."

"Listen, we don't have to talk now. You're obviously too concerned about a lot of other things, but don't try to bottle this up America. Unchecked, these dreams could have serious repercussions."

"I . . ."

Suddenly her radio crackled to life. "Hello? Hello?! I hope this is the right frequency. My name is Alex, I'm the leader of a group of survivors that escaped Eden's Gate. The cult has us pinned down at a homestead called Steele Farm. We need back up. I repeat: we need back up!"

"Pastor Jerome, do you know where this Steele Farm is?"

"Yes. It's a little ranch far northwest from here. Get James, he can guide you."

"Thanks, Pastor."

America rushed out and collected her posse. Despite the urgent situation, Jerome was still worried about the Deputy. When she returns, he intended to push more for her to speak up.

. . .

Alex fired his assault rifle at the peggies and quickly ducked back into cover. Him, his friend Hannah, and several other escapees of the cult held out in the garage at some small farm. He had managed to get his hands on a radio and contact the one person he hoped could help.

They had come from the north, from the Whitetail Mountains, after hearing about a safe haven in Holland Valley. They had heard stories about a Deputy who not only escaped the cult's clutches but was putting up a hell of a fight. Even going so far as to challenge one of the Heralds.

The thought of John Seed pissing his pants in anger made Alex smile. It was wiped away when a torrent of bullets nearly hit his head.

"Alex, are you alright?" One of the survivors asked him in worry.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just barely missed me." He could have sworn some hairs were shot off.

Some of them wanted to check him and make sure, but continuing assault from Eden's Gate brought them out of their worry and back into the fight.

Alex had a strange standing with the people of Hope County. Apparently, they saw him and his friends as heroes for revealing the cult's actions to the world. Brining their intentions to light. As happy as he was to have helped, he wasn't so positive about it. He helped start a war, even though it was something that had to be done, but damn. Just how many died because they and the authorities pissed off the cult?

Hannah crouch-walked to Alex. His eyes were instantly drawn to the bite-mark scar on her face. Jacob's Judges did a real number on her. He felt ashamed for staring at it, but it was just so noticeable. He had his own scars too, from John, but they weren't as severe as Hannah's.

"Alex, I'm not sure how much longer we can hold out."

"I called for help, but I'm not sure if anyone heard me."

"I don't want to die here, Alex . . . but I don't want to go back to Jacob. I ca—I can't go back!"

He reached for her hand and squeezed. "You won't. None of us are going back to the Seeds."

"How do you know?" Her body shook in fear.

"I . . . I don't, but I promise you, they will not get us again. We defied these motherfuckers once, we can damn well do it again."

"Sinners Alex and Hannah." The peggie squad leader declared. "You have led a flock astray. You were shown mercy by the Father himself for your transgressions and you thank him by betraying him yet again?!" He raised up the white bible that all peggies carry on person. "You deny the true path and you corrupt all that you touch. No more!"

From behind the group of peggies walked a flamebearer.

"Oh, shit." Alex said scared. He felt Hannah's hand tremble more.

"All sinners will be purged by the light of the Father!" The flamebearer declared. "Your corpses will be a message to all those who defy the Fat—"

*CLINK!*

*BOOM!*

The flamebearer exploded in a burst of fire killing several of his brethren around him. The group of survivors were shocked to see this and they were even more shocked when two vehicles came rushing up the road. One a black muscle car with peggie graffiti, another a truck with a mounted machine gun in the back.

They crashed into a couple of peggie and slid to a stop on front of the entrance of the garage, shielding the survivors. Out of the muscle car came James, armed with a modified 45/70-T. He leveled the weapon over roof of his car and fired at the peggies. Grace stayed in the back of the Cultbuster, opening the window slightly and a fired her golden MBP.

America was on the back of the pickup truck and fired the .50 Cal. Unleashing a storm of bullets that swept away peggie into death's embrace with one long arc. Cassidy was her driver and fired her AR-C, popping peggies in the head, just like Grace. By her side, Boomer was barking challengingly but he stayed out of the fight.

The survivors watched in amazement as the small group had managed to fend off the peggies. So many fell dead that many realized they were in a losing battle and started running.

"John! John! It's the Deputy again! She's come to save the sinners at the Steel Farm. We need the Chosen! I repeat: we need the—KHAA!" Part of his skull was destroyed by .50 caliber round.

Soon the peggies fully retreat, with the majority of them dead.

"Clear!" America shouted.

"Clear!" James confirmed.

"Clear!" Grace repeated.

"Clear!" Cass cried.

"Bark!" Boomer woofed.

America got down from the back and checked in on the survivors. "Is everyone okay?"

Alex approached and shook the woman's hand excitedly. "We are now thanks to you. We were very nervous there for a while."

"I'm glad our call got through." Hannah said relieved.

"America looked at the two leaders weirdly. "You two look familiar, have we met?"

"Ah! Not personally, but maybe you recognize us from our vlogs?"

She put the pieces together fast. "You guys were part of the group that exposed Eden's Gate!"

"Yeah that's us." Hannah said dryly.

"I thought you were captured by the cult?"

"We were, but we escaped and managed to save a few people along the way. We came down south for shelter." Alex explained.

"This is terrific. You guys came to the right place. Fall's End welcomes anyone looking for refuge from the cult."

The group began to mutter excitedly among themselves.

"Thank you very much. We could use a break. We've come a long way."

"I'm sure."

"Could be a tight fit though." Cass said, looking over to their truck and then at the number of people to transport.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry. We got our own transportation." Alex said confidently and turned to his followers.

A couple survivors pulled a tarp off a vehicle. It revealed a reddish-brown van, with gold decal. It was a 1989 Hierarch Wanderer. A rare van, to say the least.

"Okay, you load up and we'll get you all to Fall's End."

"Look out!"

The Cultbuster sped out of the way just as the truck was riddled with a hail of bullets from the air. It exploded from the amount of damage, forcing the people to take cover. America brought Cass close and shielded her from the fire.

Overhead a Chosen plane swooped down and past them.

"It's the cult's Chosen!" One of the survivors screeched.

"What are we going to do?"

"We're all gonna die!"

"Everyone shut up!" Hannah yelled at the hysterical people.

"Listen up," America quickly took charge, "we don't have much time until that guy comes back around. Load up everyone in the van and follow James to Fall's End. We'll keep you safe from the cult."

"You heard the lady, everyone! Move! Move!" Alex commanded.

One by one they all got into the van. Alex got in the driver seat and Hannah took the passenger seat. While Cassidy made sure all the civilians got in, America was on the horn contacting Nick.

"Rookie, the plane's coming back around!" James warned urgently.

They could hear the plane's engine getting closer.

"Alex, move the van!" America ordered.

He put the van in drive and got out of the garage just before the Chosen blew it up by dropping a bomb on top of it. Cass, America, Boomer, and a few civilians were thrown to the ground by the explosion. They covered their heads as debris rained down.

"Everyone get in the damn van!" America bellowed. The remaining civilians quickly piled in.

Cass hopped in and looked to America. "Come on America, let's go!"

"You guys go on." She replied and pulled off Falls' Ghost. "I'll distract the plane while you guys get to safety."

"What?! Are you crazy? You can't take on a plane!"

"It'll just follow us all the way back to Fall's End. The peggies got beef with me. They can't resist trying to kill me."

"Then I'm staying with you."

"Out of the question, I'll be fine." She slammed the door shut.

"Hey!"

"James! Alex! Get out of here!"

"But—"

"NOW!"

Both the Wanderer and the Cultbuster sped off onto the road and headed for safety. America saw Cass open the back door briefly, before falling back and closing it again.

America turned and faced the Chosen. She quickly headed for the nearest cover, which was the trailer home parked next to the destroyed garage. The peggie's main gun fired, and America narrowly avoided the barrage.

The white plane flew over and America fired Fall's Ghost.

"Distract the plane, I said. They won't resist trying to kill me, I said. Fuck me, why do I have a death wish?"

The fighter plane came back around. With it perfectly lined up in her sights, America fired Fall's Ghost. The rounds hit the plane, its body, and the windshield. But none managed to kill the pilot. America quickly ran before the peggie shot at her again and dropped a bomb where she previously was.

She headed for the forest now, hoping the trees could provide cover and a hiding spot. The two streams of bullets barely missing said it wasn't working.

Another bomb dropped, throwing her back and disorienting her. Trying to regain focus, she saw through bleary eyes that the Chosen was coming back around.

'Shit! Get up! Get up!'

The peggie was about to fire again, but then he his plane was suddenly hit by a barrage of bullets to the side.

"Hello, peggie! I'm Mr. Death-From-Above!"

"Nick!"

Carmina chased after the Chosen, hot on their tail. That first hit was already enough to make the plane smoke and blare warning alarms. He tried to shake him, but the expecting-father was persistent.

Nick lined up his target and pulled the trigger. The gatling gun rotated and a second later shot the Chosen out of the sky. The white plane crashed a few meters from America's position.

She grunted a little from the pain and disorientation as she tried to stand on her legs.

"Nick, oh, am I glad to see you." She winced.

"You doin' alright there, partner? Glad I got here when I did. That peggie was on you like a fly on a cow pie."

"I'm fine, Nick. Just winded—urgh—and just a little bruised. At least the team got away to Fall's End right?"

"You bet, saw them just as I came to save the day."

"You're my hero Ni—ARGH!"

"Deputy?" No response. "America?"

America stumbled a little. She pulled out something sharp from her neck and saw a familiar dart with black plumage.

"Oh shit, not again." Too tired and hurt to fight the drug, her world started spinning. Through her blurry, star-filled eyes she could see a group of people surround her.

"America? America are you okay?! I don't got visual on you. Answer!

* * *

 **AN: For those of you that can't tell, James is actually my male version for Far Cry 5. Where America was an outsider who just came into Hope County. James is a local and knows almost everyone in Hope County.**

 **For those of you that are Prototype fans, yes, he's is named after the anti-hero protagonist of Prototype 2 (how come there's no prototype 3 yet?). But I didn't name him that because of that. I named him James because I'm sticking with the J theme going on in Far Cry (Jason, Ajay, John, Jacob, Joseph). His last name is a bit of a joke honestly. At the start of the game Joseph points out Sheriff Whitehorse, is the white horse that brings about the apocalypse and after that he says, "and it was hell that followed." Heller. It was just too perfect a name, so I said to hell with originality and took the name for my male character.**

 **Six more days until New Dawn arrives people! I'm super excited. I'm hoping to get out one more chapter before I'm busy playing the game.**


	10. Say No to Yes

John took a humongous gulp of Jack Daniels. The whiskey burned down his throat and sent a pleasant shock through his system. He looked down at the bottle and felt both love and loathing for the drink. He caressed it like a long-lost lover, before throwing it against the wall in disgust, shattering it into pieces.

"Angel!"

The angel stumbled in. Lifeless, seemingly unfocused, but ready to work to the bone to serve Eden's Gate at a moment's notice.

"Clean up the mess." He ordered.

The angel groaned and stumbled over to the mess. John liked the angels, they never questioned, they never complained, they were happy to do any work that was given to them. You could give them an impossible task and they would spend the rest of their lives trying to fulfill it. They had been exceedingly helpful in loading and storing supplies into the Gate.

He saw the angel pick up the glass with his bare hands. Cuts already decorating the calloused skin. The angel paid no mind to the blood or the pain. If they could properly use a gun they'd be the perfect soldier!

'What was it Jacob called them? Golems? "Rocks with hands, but no brain." He always preferred animals that listen.'

The loss of the Ranch forced John to take shelter with his followers in the Gate. Now he was strategizing from his office in the bunker. Not as homey as the Ranch, but at least this would allow him to acclimate to the underground bunker when the collapse Arrives.

Leaning over the desk, his eyes scanned every inch of the Holland Valley. The Project still owns a good chunk of the farmland and were close to full 100% completion.

'Until that Snake slithered into our fields.' He thought bitterly.

Eden's Gate still had a firm grasp of the valley, but without the US Auto to repair and refuel their trucks their movement was limited. Now they had to go all the way to Henbane River, to Lorna's Truckstop to refuel and repair.

Now Sunrise Farms were taken from their hands. That was two food production facilities taken from him now! More food taken out of the mouths of the worthy. He heard Chandra was killed, shot through the heart. Poor woman. So full of love that one. If they didn't get back the farm, they would be short a ton of food. And the unworthy will waste it. Stuffing their pig mouths, ignorant that'll all be a waste when the end of the world comes.

"And it's all because of that Deputy." He seethed.

Deputy Jones. A name that was far more trouble then it should have been worth. His whole future, paradise awaiting, was withheld from him, so long as that woman continued to sin against the Father. At Joseph's words.

'Why, Brother? What's so special about her?'

Taking a knife he stabbed it in the middle of Fall's End.

'She takes everything from you without any thought of the consequences. So many of our people are dying and you want her to join us?! What does she offer that you are willing to sacrifice so much?'

It didn't make sense to him. So many times he was tempted to just kill the woman, but Joseph's guidance kept him on the path. He managed to dig up the woman's files from the Sheriff's Department and only found a couple of interesting things.

'Her Father was a National Park Ranger and her Mother an Army Ranger. Maybe Jacob can tell me more about that. Has been to three different schools, two of which kicked her out for starting fights. Has a degree in psychology and criminology. A championship boxer.'

She lived an interesting life, but nothing special. There was nothing special about her!

"And yet I must save her from herself. Oh, the tests that God gives us." He rubbed his face.

Thankfully, he was not without plans. Very soon the Revelator will be complete, and the roads would be theirs once more. Then they can reclaim all that the unbelievers stole from them.

'I may not even have to take up Jacob's offer. Metal and fire will be far more superior then the claws and teeth of his failed experiments.'

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

"What is it? I'm extremely busy at the moment." John said crossly.

His subordinate was right to the point.

"John, we got her. We got Deputy Jones."

Those words were as beautiful as his victim's confessions.

"Now that . . . that puts a smile on my face."

. . .

America was in the dark. She could not see anything at all, but she could hear. God, could she hear.

Screams. Cries all around her. Cries of pain, torment, sadness, despair, outrage, and anger. Wherever she was it was a world of suffering and agony. Cold and hard all around her, a world made of steel.

'The bunker.' Her hazy thoughts deduced. 'I've been taken to John's bunker.'

Then voices spoke close to her. Peggies.

"They put up a good fight."

"Wake up sinner." She felt someone kick her in the stomach. Hard. "It'd be easier to put a bullet in her."

"That is not the will of the Father." The peggie said firmly. "Take her to John. He's ready to hear her confession."

She felt herself get picked up like a sack of potatoes, slung over a shoulder. The drugs in her system kicked in again and she passed out, the screams of the trapped still echoed in her unconscious mind.

What felt like seconds in her mind, more likely minutes, felt like hours passed when she woke up. And she woke up in a place that only Freddy Krueger would consider home.

She was tied, arms and legs, to a chair. The room was dark, with only a red light to illuminate the place. The light came from an antler chandelier, as if to make this nightmarish hellhole look homey. To her left was a tool bench, with a wooden headboard . . . human skin was stapled to it. The skin had etchings of the seven deadly sins on them. The bench was clear of tools but was caked in dried blood. Metal was her environment. Floors, ceiling, walls, all of it was metal. This was exactly how she imagined John's bunker to be like. And that sicko wanted people to live in this place.

"MMM! MMMMMHHHHMM!"

The room though was not what garnered her attention. Just a couple yards from her was Deputy Joey Hudson. The poor woman was screaming through her duct tape gag, pulling at her restraints trying to get free from her rolling chair.

"Hudson!" America cried out. The woman looked okay, but if those broadcasts she heard the peggies listening to were anything to go by, Hudson was anything but. Upon closer examination, her face was stained with tears, bruised with a black eye, and a fresh red scar on her right cheek. She had cuts everywhere, bruises on her exposed skin. Her hands were bloody and missing a few fingernails, and, it was hard to see in this lighting, but she had a burn scar on her neck.

"Hudson! Hudson, calm down! We're gonna get out of this." She tried to assure her, but the woman was hysterical.

Hudson suddenly stopped her thrashing when the sound of a metal door creaked open and closed. Soft footsteps clacked against the metal floor from behind America. Looking over at Hudson, the poor girl looked like a deer in headlights. Completely petrified.

John passed America by, whistling a smooth tune that she recognized as "We'll Meet Again." In his hands was a tool chest that he casually dropped on the bench.

After dusting off the bench, and removing a tray from the box, John ended the whistle on a high note. Then he was silent. He turned around and showed off that pearly white, slimy smile of his. All America wanted to do was shatter every tooth with her fist, but she had to settle with her best death-glare. Which just amused the youngest Seed brother.

He then spoke nostalgically, in that calm, positive tone of his.

"My parents were the first ones to teach me about the Power of Yes. One night they took me into the kitchen and they threw me to the ground" John picked up a stapler and casually started adding to his collection of skin to the board, "and I experienced pain, after pain, after pain, after pain-*SLAM*"

John smashed the stapler onto the bench, making Hudson flinch and yelp in fear. America just continued to glower at the psychopath.

"And when I didn't think I could take anymore, I did." John grabbed a tattoo gun and walked over to America. Hudson cried out "NO!" but it was muffled from her gag.

"Something broke free inside, I wasn't scared . . . I was clear. I looked up at them and I started to laugh. All I could say was . . .Yes."

He turned on a lamp, shinning it on Jones. He put the tattoo gun together and loaded it with ink, hooking up the power cord. When he was done, he set it on a tray.

"I spent my entire life looking for more things to say yes to." He suddenly lurched forward and ripped open her shirt. America squirmed a little from his touch. His gaze settled on her chest for an uncomfortable amount of time. Then his eyes shifted to stare into her worried, defiant ones. His blue eyes looked so cold. "I opened every hole in my body and when those were filled I created more."

"But it was Joseph who showed me just how selfish I was being. Always receiving. Always taking. The best gift isn't the one you get, it's the one you give. And giving takes courage."

America scrunched her face in mock disgust. "John . . . no one needs to hear about how your brother fucked you."

John backhanded her.

"Ah! You're lucky I'm tied up John. Otherwise I'd kick your ass right here."

He lunged forward, getting in her face, slamming his hands on her arms, bruising them. America did not yield. She stared back, with narrowed, defiant eyes. Hudson was worried for her.

"You think you're brave, America?" He scoffed. "Think your petty insults mean anything? They're nothing, you are nothing, the unbelievers of Fall's End are nothing. You are not the force of good you believe yourself to be." He balled his hand into a thumbs up and underlined his "SLOTH" scar with the tip of his thumb.

"This means something. This is true courage . . . to own your sin. To etch it on to your flesh and carry its burden and when you have endured –when you have truly begun to atone—to cut it out like a cancer and display it for all to see! My god that's courage."

"That's not courage you moron. That's just masochistic psychopathy."

John ignored her and fished out a knife from his toolbox.

"I'm going to teach you courage, America. Teach you how to say 'yes.' So you can confront your weaknesses. Confront your sins! You will swim across an ocean of pain and emerge . . . free. For only then can you begin to atone." He sounded euphoric, like he just got high off his own bull crap.

He leaned against the bench and looked between the two law enforcers.

"So who wants to go first, hm?"

America still glared at John but held her tongue. But then her eyes fell on Hudson and the rising fear on the woman was palpable. She had been through so much already. As much as America hated to give the psychopath what he wanted, Hudson needed help.

This fucker didn't know what real courage was.

"Yes." She spat with every fiber of hatred in her being.

"Yes!" John shouted victoriously. John approached and she saw more relief then happiness in his face. "Yes. Ah, I swear you won't regret this. I promise."

The knife in his hand waved playfully. For a second America thought he was going to stab her. But then he spun around on his heel and made his way over to Hudson.

"But before we begin I think it's only appropriate that Deputy Hudson goes back to her room. Confessions are supposed to be private after all."

He pushed Hudson's chair, until the two deputies were face to face. Hudson was hysterical again, crying and screaming. Being near John brought out a whole new level of fear in her.

John shushed her and stroked her shaking head soothingly. "I'm not here to take your life. I'm here to give it to you." Hudson kept muffling no, no, no.

His attentions returned to America. Instead of pretending to be gentle, he didn't hide his violent edge as he started choking her. "I'm going to open you up and pour your worst fears down your throat! And as you choke, your sins will bubble up, revealing themselves to me. Then you will truly understand the Power of Yes."

America gasped when he let go. "Fuck . . . you . . . brotherfuker."

"Hold this for me, would you Deputy Jones?" John slammed his knife into America's leg, causing her to scream out in pain. Hudson joined her in the screaming. "I'll ask for it back when I return."

Hudson was rolled out of the room screaming the whole way until America couldn't hear her anymore. America took several gasps of breath, trying not to focus on the pain shooting through her thigh.

She tugged on her bindings. He wrists and ankles were secured to the chair. She tried moving, making the chair screech, but could barely make an inch. Hanging her head, the Deputy tried thinking of another plan, but the knife in her leg wasn't helping her process.

It hit her. 'The knife.'

America tried reaching for the knife, but her hands were too far away, and they couldn't stretch further. She bent down, twisting her head at an odd angle and gripped the handle in her mouth. Slowly she lifted the blade out of her leg, making her whimper, but she did not stop or let go.

Finally, the knife came out and America moaned in relief and pain. Using her tongue to change the angle of the blade, she bent forward moving her head back and forth against the rope bindings. It took a good minute, her neck ached a lot, but she managed to cut the rope and break free. Taking the knife from her mouth she cut her other restraints, he wrist and her legs and she was free!

Quickly standing up, America experienced a bit of vertigo from the drugs and soreness but shook it off. She took a step and tripped. Yelling out in pain. She caught herself and looked at the thin hole in her leg.

"Shit." America looked at the bench and hobbled over to it to grab the stapler. Grabbing the tool, America took a deep breath to gain some courage for what she was about to do next. Pulling the skin together, placing the stapler mouth to her leg, she closed her eyes and pulled the trigger.

"GRRR-FFFFUUUUURRRRR!" Inhaling sharply, she slammed the stapler on the bench. She took several deep breaths and tried collecting herself. When most of the pain subsided, she looked up with fortitude in her eyes.

"Hang on Hudson. I'm coming." America said determinedly.

At first she intended to go through the door John took, but there were likely guards waiting outside. Looking around she saw a door that led into a basement.

'Can't think of any other way.'

Storing the knife in her pocket, she hobbled down the stairs. When she reached the bottom her foot kicked a socket pipe. Picking it up, she gave it a few practice swings before nodding in approval.

'The sharp edge on the sockets will do some damage.'

Searching, America thanked God that there was an open pipe that probably led to some other part of the bunker. Crawling through it and then falling down a ways, she found herself in a barracks. Right in front of her was a peggie. On his knees and praying to God to make him a better man.

'God can't hear you in here motherfucker.'

She raised the pipe and struck the guy in the head. He was dead on the first hit, but she double tapped him to make sure.

"Eddy?"

'Shit, he wasn't alone.'

"Eddy? What's wrong?"

America pressed herself against a stood up mattress. When the woman came in sight America bashed her head in with a sickening crack. Her blood joined Eddy's on the floor.

Outside the barracks, another lone peggie was moving boxes. America casually approached him and tapped his shoulder.

"Hm?"

America moved around him out of his sight and struck him in the neck. He choked and wheezed, his neck very much broken. Raising the pipe, she buried it in his head. She had to wrench it from his skull she buried it so deep.

Checking his body, she managed to find a 9mm, a couple of clips and some ear plugs.

"This'll come in handy." It was smart for the cult to carry around earplugs in case they had to discharge their weapons. She could only imagine how deaf she'd be if she fired a gun in these closed corridors. Putting the earplugs in, she kept moving.

As she moved down the long hallway, she could once again hear the cries of the people.

"Let us out!"

"Why are you doing this?"

"I'll do whatever you want. Just don't hurt me."

"I want to go home."

"You killed my family!"

And the cultists were trying to justify themselves.

"Be quiet."

"We're trying to save you!"

"Atone and you will be freer then free."

"The Collapse is upon us."

"You're safe."

All those cries could be heard behind locked doors and tiny vents. Like some kind of terrible surround sound from hell, where you could hear the cries and moans of the damned. America was getting turned around trying to guess where the people were.

'How many have the cult taken?' she internally fumed.

Opening one of the heavy doors, America stepped out into a forked hall. Seeing a pair of peggies to her left she crouched down and hid behind some crates.

"Ya heard that the Deputy was caught?"

"I did! I hope John takes his time skinning that snake." He chuckled.

"She's killed a lot of us, sure, but I just hope she learns from John's teachings."

"Your too softhearted, Will."

"Everyone deserves a chance to walk the right path, Gary. I was a teacher once, I know the importance of teaching and learning. Sometimes it's that one person that makes it all worth wile."

"Sure, whatever you say, Will."

The two split. America heard footsteps walking toward her direction. Lying in wait, she sprang up and wrapped her pipe around the peggie's neck. The peggie looked shocked and scared seeing just who had him trapped.

"I'm gonna make this easy on you. Where is Deputy Hudson?"

She pulled on the pipe choking him, making him gag. Loosening her grip a bit so he could talk, the cultist wheezed out his words quietly. The man must have been a coward because he sang like a caged canary

"Down that hall, main door." He pointed in said direction, answering almost instantly.

'So much for devotion.'

"Where are you keeping my weapons." She wanted her silver six-shooter back.

"W-we're keeping them in an armory. Down the same hall, but you need a key."

"Where's this key?"

"Dennis has it—HURCK!"

"Who is Dennis? You flea-beards all look the same."

"H-he's got blonde hair . . . and the sin pride etched on his left cheek. Can't miss him"

"Thanks for the tip."

She pulled the pipe back more. The peggie struggled to push it off, but America was stronger then him. There was a crack and his windpipe was crushed. Dropping the peggie to the floor she checked him for anything of value. A couple of clips, a set of goggles, and a smoke grenade.

'I can use this.' She smirked.

Heading to the room, she poked inside and saw a bunch of peggies. Some were sleeping in their bunks, others reading their bibles, some were moving furniture, and one peggie was shoving another into a barrel that was leaking green mist.

She pulled out the smoke grenade and hooked the pin.

'Let's get this party started.'

She pulled the pin and threw it into the middle of the room. Before any could figure out what that clank noise was, the grenade erupted and filled the room with a thick gray smoke.

The peggies started coughing uncontrollably. They wandered about looking for the exit or just someone to lean on. America made her kill.

Holding a handkerchief to her mouth and nose and wearing the goggles she got off the peggie, America rushed in with the knife that John "gave" her. The peggies, unable to see, felt their throat's open up and pour out blood. She took the knife and shoved it into their guts and skulls. Twisting the handle for good measure. They called out for each other, which just gave their position away and allowed America to bury John's knife in them.

She found the peggie she was looking for. Blonde, "Pride" scar on his cheek. He looked like he was handsome once upon a time, if it weren't for the ratty beard and scar on his face. Dennis was near the couch. America practically tackled him into it and started stabbing him multiple times in the sternum before cutting his throat open. The couch became stained with his blood.

Searching his body, she found a silver key in his pocket. But before she could search for her weapons, one of the peggies jumped onto her back.

America growled as the man screamed in her ear. He gripped her body in a strong vice as he tried stabbing her with a gardening trowel. Keeping his stabbing hand away, she reached behind and grabbed the hem of the man's shirt. Performing a shoulder toss, she slammed the man into the floor.

The look of the peggie was unlike any she'd seen before. He was bald, wearing rattier white clothes then even the usual cult grunts. He had no shoes and weirdly enough he wore a face mask, bearing the cult's cross, over his mouth.

Not dazed in the least by the toss, the peggie sprang right back up and tried stabbing her again with the gardening tool. Holding him back, America got a good look at the guy's manic eyes. They were milky white, and devoid of any reason or control.

The peggie screamed at her, his strength was unreal. It was like he was putting all of his adrenaline into killing her. Continuing to scream, the peggie put both hands on the trowel, bring it closer to her chest.

America took out her 9mm and shot the peggie in the abdomen. This didn't even phase him!

'What the hell is this guy?! He acts like I just poked him!'

She shot him again and again and again, but he just kept coming. Kept on screaming! Tired of hearing his mouth, America pointed upwards and shot him through the chin, the bullet exiting out the top of his skull.

This stopped him dead in his tracks. His body fell on top of her, with the trowel slipping from his hands, clattering to the ground. America panted and pushed the dead guy off.

"What . . . the hell?" She breathed "This guy . . . acted like he couldn't feel anything I did to him."

Kneeling down to examine him more, she pulled off his mask and was repulsed by what she saw. He had no lips! His teeth and gums were exposed, framed by scarred, wrinkly ridges. From her examinations, she saw signs of bite marks, indicating that the man chewed off his own lips.

"Why the fuck would he do that? What the fuck did the cult do to you?"

She wouldn't get any answers from dead bodies and stood up. Putting the gruesome knowledge in the back of her mind, she went looking for the armory that held her guns. It was easy to find in the hall, a sturdy, white locked door with the word "Armory" spray-painted on it.

Opening it with the key, she whistled at the sight she took in. There were a lot of guns, in crates, on shelves, America was upset that she was only one person and could only carry so much. At least she could hoard some of the ammo that the cult had graciously labeled and alphabetized.

'Someone likes their orderliness.'

Scouring for her weapons, she found her belt and holster in a plastic box. Judgment was still snuggled and safe in said holster. Her dad's knife was also put with the belt. She found Fall's Ghost and the Farmhand set on a shelf and the Star-Spangled Basher was put in a bucket with some other bats. As she was loading up all the ammo and special ammo she could, her eyes fell upon a gun that made her eyes sparkle with delight.

A beautiful, long, hard, bountiful . . . M60 LMG. It was just sitting on a table, with a single light showcasing it like a prize on a game show. America slowly approached it. Her hands touched it, stroked it, then she gripped it and held it firmly in her arms.

"Oh . . . yeah." She said sexily.

Her eyes drifted away from the gun and fell onto the ammo that was sitting on the table next to it.

"Anti-Armor Rounds" it said on the large box.

America smiled sinisterly and every peggie in Hope County shivered for reasons unknow to them all.

Exiting the armory, she retraced her steps through the hallway and walked through a large steel door. She entered a room that had three other doors, each thick, made of reinforced steel, that had valve handles to open them. The one ahead of her however, had a window and through the window he could see John and Hudson.

Rushing to the door, she tried opening it, but the handle wouldn't budge. John saw her through the window and smiled. America fired three shots from Judgment at his face. Three dents appeared on the glass, but did nothing effective. The bullets just bounced off.

"Fuck!" She slammed her fist against the glass, wishing that it was John's face instead.

'Bullet proof glass!'

John was still smugly smiling at her through the glass. He pressed some button on his side that activated a comm for him to talk to her.

"I know your sin. It drives you. Every thought, every action. Your sin is wrath." He released a single laugh. "So, I'll indulge you. Become wrath. Let it fill your body. Let it consume your soul because in the end . . . you'll still be empty."

America this time laughed. "Empty? That's cute John." She continued laughing, pissing John off if his decreasingly cool face was any indication.

"I'm not empty John. Before all this bullshit I was leading a pretty happy life. Actually, just starting one. Had two loving parents, friends, a roof over my head, and God." She saw John's eye twitch. "I was happy, but you're not are you John?"

. . .

His silence was all the answer she needed.

"I know what you are John. You're a sinner. You're a scared little boy crying for his big brother to save him from his mommy and daddy. You act all tough and controlled, but really, you're just so frightened and in pain. And you're trying to put all that fear and pain in others, because no matter how many people you get to "confess" it'll never be enough to fill that . . . emptiness inside you."

John banged on the door between them. "Fuck you! You don't know what you speak of, sinner! You don't know me."

"No, but I do know criminals. Psychopaths like you always have a Freudian reason for why they do shit. Your reason: is because you want people to hurt, the same way your parents hurt you. Because that's the only "love" you've ever gotten. Even Joseph gives you that kind love."

"Don't you talk about my Brother like that!"

America shook her head, smiling wryly. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. I don't know what's more pathetic, that you actually think Joseph would ever let someone like you into his Eden's Gate or just your life as a whole."

"AAH!" John banged both fists on the glass plating, roaring and snarling at the woman who was just in arms reach from him. "You bitch! You whore! You blasphemer! You FUCKING SINNER!"

"If you don't like my judgments John, then come out here and prove me wrong."

He almost did just that but stopped himself. His glare intensified, but he was in more control then a few seconds ago.

"No. You still need to confess. I'll see you again. . . once you are completely consumed by wrath and then . . . I'll rip off your goddamned skin. Until then, Deputy Hudson here will just have to take your place for the time being. I'll be waiting. We'll both be waiting."

John pressed some kind of switch. An alarm blared, the vents started leaking bliss fumes. On the PA a voice was warning that the bunker would become sealed soon. John grabbed Hudson and dragged her deeper into the bunker.

"MMMMMMM! MMMMM!"

"Hudson!" She banged on the door. "Just hang in there! I'll get you out of this hell hole! I swear!"

They went around a corner and she lost sight of Hudson. Cursing one last time, America took the door to her left and started running to the surface. After running up the stairs she came to a room full of furniture. Paper signs were placed on them, each had a different designated location that she guessed was somewhere in the bunker. Silo A, Silo B, D, etcetera. One sign on the wall caught her attention though.

"Surface" with an arrow pointing up a stairwell.

Shouts came from the next set of stairs. America coughed violently, the bliss fumes were starting to make her head hurt, almost seeing red at the corner of her eyes.

Running, America came across peggies on the stairs, ready to take her on. In these tight corridors she couldn't miss. The M60 fired and it was like music to her ears. Blood practically exploded from the cultist's bodies. These anti-armor rounds were no joke. They messed up flesh and bone!

The stairs seemed endless, the haze of bliss wasn't helping either. She could hear voices echo in her ear. Suddenly, when she was close to the end, another one of those bald freaks charged her. Remembering that these guys felt no pain, but also remembering that she had an LMG with powerful ammo in its belly, she fired and tore that peggie and the one behind him apart.

She arrived at the entrance of the bunker and twisted the wheel. The door hissed and opened up. America practically jumped out and sucked in all that sweet, clean air.

But she would not get to enjoy it for long.

"The Deputy has escaped."

"Find her and bring her back to John!"

Peggies knew she was out and much to her horror, she saw more of those bald, milky-eyed freaks coming at her with farm equipment!

Getting up, she swung her LMG cracking one of those bald peggie's heads open. With a gut still full of ammo, America pressed the gun's trigger and let it roar. The anti-armor rounds tore through the peggies like they were paper. They penetrated the trucks, turning them into swiss cheese before exploding in a great ball of fire. If a cultist wasn't killed by the explosion he was trying to put himself out before he was burned to death.

Those screaming peggies continued to charge, fearless of the bullets she was unleashing on them and their fanatical brothers.

"Drive the sinner from our home, brothers and sister!" John declared over the intercom. "Let her run, let her hide. For no matter where she goes, God will guide us to her!"

America shot the speakers and made a dash for a truck. Peggies were crawling out of the wood work and she didn't know how much ammo she had left in the LMG. The bald peggies were especially starting to get on her nerves. John had a shit ton of them!

Tossing the gun in the back America turned the trucks key and put it in drive. Several of those bald cultists started smashing the truck, one even shattering the window and tried strangulating her. She put on the gas and rove off, running over a couple peggies and breaking the arm of the one that had a hold of her. Several cultists fired their weapons as she speeded out of the place.

She didn't even bother sticking to the road and just drove down a hill into the forest. The truck was barreling down the hill at fifty mile an hour. The jarring bumps made it difficult to keep focus and keep her eyes set on not trying to run into trees. It didn't help that the bliss didn't fully leave her system yet and was screwing with her eyesight.

America had no clue how far she drove before the truck fell down a steep cliff and rolled up a hill, stopping at a bridge. By hitting a tree.

America jerked back and forth. Her head throbbed and her neck ached. The bliss in her system finally wore off and she got out of the truck. Groggy and—

'Oh God!'

She threw up. All the drugs and the adrenaline pumping through her system was too much. When she was done emptying out her stomach, she wiped the bile from her mouth and got on the horn.

"This is Deputy Jones, calling anyone from the Resistance. Anyone copy?" She sighed tiredly.

Half a minute passed before someone finally answered her. It was Mary May.

"America? America is that really you? Where are you? Nick said you were taken by John's Ushers."

"I was." She spat, both to insult John's name and because of the vomit aftertaste. "They took me to their massive bunker. I escaped, but Hudson and a lot of other people are still trapped. I can't get to them." She said.

"Where are you? We can send a chopper to pick you up."

"I'm outside John's bunker. Somewhere on the path that leads there."

"Head towards the road, we'll prep a chopper to pick you up."

"Sounds good."

There was a pause on Mary's side. For a second America thought she lost contact, but then the bartender spoke up. Sounding a bit remorseful.

"Listen, Deputy, I'm glad you're safe, but we need your help right now."

"What?"

"Eden's Gate finally rolled out that secret project of theirs from the Railyard. It's a big-ass semi with plated armor and guns! They're calling "The Revelator." It's like a goddamn tank! They're trying to take the roads back. It's killed so many of our patrols already and its heading right for Fall's End."

Forgetting her fatigue, America grabbed her guns and started marching toward the rendezvous point. Determination and fury was all she was feeling now. She was only gone for a while and John finally pulls out his big guns.

"Where's it going now?" She asked seriously.

"It's heading toward the gas station on the main road."

"Get people clear, I'll handle it."

Before Mary could ask her what or how, she disconnected the call.

'John wants to see me become wrath?" Her LMG creaked from how tightly she was gripping it. 'I'll show him what real wrath is when I burn down his whole operation! When I drown his people in their own blood! When I rain lead and fire down on their heads! And finally, when I take his life with my own two hands! John wants WRATH?!'

A helicopter flew over her. It bore peggie markings and was looking for her. She shot it down with her M60. It exploded in a fiery blaze before it hit the ground.

'I'm going to give him _**wrath**_.'

* * *

 **AN: New Dawn is out tomorrow people! I'm so excited I can barely contain myself! Obviously I'll be busy playing it, so don't expect updates to any of my stories for a while. Have a great day everyone! And enjoy the apocalyptic New Dawn!**


	11. New Dawn Review

So I finally finished New Dawn and here's my overall thoughts and feelings on the matter.

 **The World**

You know when people had that issue with Fallout 4 (which?) the one where they wanted to know more about the modern world before the bombs dropped? This is basically what people wanted. We had a whole game to explore Hope County and here we come back again to see its new face after the facelifting nuclear apocalypse. And believe me, don't listen to those people who say "Oh, it's just copy and pasted crap!" It's not. The landscape's really changed, to the point I have to double-triple check to see it's a familiar sight. It's both new and nostalgic all at the same time.

During New Dawn's production many were criticizing why the world is bright and colorful instead of radioactive and wasteland-like. The answer, that hardly anybody listened to, is the fictional phenomenon called "Super Bloom." Seriously people, pay attention, this was mentioned even in the beginning Devs. Super Bloom is when mother nature herself lets plants overgrow everywhere to recover great amount of damage. With almost two decades of no human interaction plants and fauna were allowed to flourish. That's not to say the world wasn't a wasteland before the bloom. From what I understand the world was a desolate black desert, then a freezing ice age, before finally settling in the current world we have now. If you're looking for that desert wasteland, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed to find out that it surrounds Hope County as a border for the game. I'm not complaining, I'll take lush and colorful lands over the drab gray deserts of Fallout.

The new Expeditions feature is pretty interesting, but I can't say it's all that. While it is cool to go to somewhere different and see how the world has changed as well, it doesn't add much of anything of substance. Except for one Expedition where you can find a cool secret, the rest are just repetitive retrieval missions. Don't get me wrong, expeditions are super helpful, they give you a shit ton of resources, especially circuit boards, they give out more of those, but with the number of ways to get resources it's not something you're super eager to jump in to.

 **Gameplay**

I had zero concerns for this game until I heard that the enemies would be given a health bar and that they would be basically bullet sponges. A bullet is a bullet, if it hits someone's head, they are dead. I was surprised to see that this change didn't bother me for the majority of the game. In fact, it was actually a welcomed challenge.

You play as the Captain of Security. The second in command(?) of Thomas Rush the leader of a group that travel around helping settlements and making them safe and livable. You can be male or female and you're absolutely silent, just like the Deputy form 5. Other then that, you get no other information, the rest is up to your imagination. For me, this time I played as a male. If you're curious about more of my character feel free to ask.

Bladed takedowns are back. (If someone could tell me what kind of knife we use for takedowns I would appreciate it.) Takedowns with blunt weapons are taken down, a little bit of a downer, but since we got a lot of other ways to kill people, I'm good. Like, some weapons come with makeshift bayonets and the animations of those takedowns are awesome!

You can earn perk points in a lot more ways then five. Thankfully the game got rid of 5's system where you accumulated points and then were forced to face the boss. I could save people from capture without worry of being forced into a confrontation and I even earned points for it! You can get points by completing challenges. Trust me, that's the fastest way to make yourself powerful early in the game.

 **Animals**

Animals have always been my favorite part about Far Cry, ever since 3. It's not a survival game until you're competing with the biggest and baddest predators around. And these are the apocalypse version of these predators. First off I'd like to say that I love the new designs for the animals. They are so colorful and unique and make me wonder why evolution took this turn for them. If you go plant hunting you see that humming birds have gotten a lot bigger.

Unlike 5 though I didn't do much hunting. There really isn't much of a need for it, especially fishing. You seek skins for resources and you can pretty much get those in a lot more, less time consuming, way. Anytime that I hunted, it was because the animals came at me.

I said fishing is pretty much pointless. In 5 they at least give you a challenge that motivates you to fish, but with all the other stuff you can do, why bother—except to have fun. They also seemed to have taken out a couple of fish, namely the sturgeon.

And the fish they added is—WHY ARE THERE DEMON FISH IN THIS GAME?! Seriously Ubisoft, are these like your favorite animal? Not every place needs something deadly in the water. If you wanted a dangerous man-eating fish, then fucking mutate the ones you have already! Please, anyone reading this, if you find any lore on why these fish are in this game, tell me! A part of me blames it on Hurk, but I have no evidence to back this up. I NEED a reason for why this is.

Speaking of mutants. There are these even more mutated creatures called "Monstrous Animals." They're the Elite of the animal kingdom. Basically bears, boars, cougars, and bison that have some kind of moss-fungus-rock-scab shit all over them that acts as some kind of "natural" armor, with some glowing weak spot somewhere on the body. As tough as they come, you need armor-piercing rounds to take these guys on, otherwise it's constant healing yourself strategy. Out of all the animals, I'm most curious about them. The reason the animals mutated was because of a mix between the Bliss and radiation. I REALLY want to know what made these guys into the armored behemoths that they are.

 **Weapons**

When I heard that Far Cry was going to get the RPG treatment, I was expecting a lot more customization out of New Dawn's weapons. Not to say the weapons aren't unique looking, but you buy them as is. You can't switch out bayonets, skins, you can't even add scopes or silencers. You have to buy a weapon that has a scope or a silencer. A real step down in my opinion.

But like I said, the weapons look very unique and they have some funny descriptions. And I do like that they are ranked, and you have to earn those ranks. In 5 you could get a powerful weapon at any time so long as you had the money and level and that always annoyed me a little. But here you have to earn the weapons through resources and levels, which I really like.

The saw launcher is th weapon that was promoted the most in the trailers and IS one of the most unique things to come out of the franchise. Once used enough to master it, it becomes a hell of a weapon. Just remember it is not used for stealth. Learned that the hard way. When you level it up to the Elite version, it's a real power house.

For those of you curious, my main weapons were the saw launcher, submachine gun, and SVD sniper rifle, with the fourth being whatever I fancied at the time.

 **The Guns for Hire**

The Guns for Hire are my favorite mechanic from FC5. Since its introduction I've just been giddy about what it could do for future games. Just imagine what would have happened if we got that in FC4. I like to think some of my OCs from my One True King story are GFH (Nadia, Boris, and Sivudu). Unfortunately, in New Dawn there are some issues. At first I was upset that there were a few less then last game, but since this is a spinoff game (just like Primal) it was understandable. So I let it slide. HOWEVER, once I started playing I discovered something after getting my second GFH. YOU CAN ONLY HAVE **ONE** GFH! What the hell Ubisoft?! Why ONE?! I can understand not having a whole squad, but what's wrong with having two? The enemies are tougher, so wouldn't it be more useful to have two? I'm sorry, I just can't let this go. I want to say they should update this, but I know they won't because if they couldn't add stabbing weapons in 5, they sure as hell won't let you have two GFH in the field.

Those are my feelings for the mechanics of GFH, but what about my feelings for the characters? I love them! They're just as unique as the others from 5.

Carmina is your first companion and I'll be honest I thought she'd be the weakest. She's just armed with an assault rifle and can throw sticks of dynamite. So just a typical grunt? The girl, by the time I had gotten to the second part of the game, had the highest body count of 70. And out of all my companions she kept the record of highest body count. By the end of the game she had somewhere around 100. She is so incredibly useful, it's hilarious. I saw that number in the roster and my jaw just dropped. I was eating crow at that moment. Carmina is very likable, she's strong, emotional, did I mention she's a magnificent fighter? As nice as she is, she also has a dark side. She's just bloodthirsty when she's fighting. The shouts and declarations she makes when she goes up against the H-Men is almost disconcerting. She's not as profound as Jess, but it's close.

Timber . . . is a good boy. I miss Boomer, but I welcome this Akita Inu. He seems to be more intelligent then the other dogs, maybe even Boomer. I like to think he's the equivalent of Dogmeat from Fallout 4: oddly intelligent for an animal living in the apocalypse. Unfortunately, because you can only have one GFH, I didn't use him as much as I expected I would. He would work well with Carmina or Nana, but alas. Unlike Boomer, he lacks a background. When it came to Boomer we knew enough about him to develop sympathy for him. With Timber, I don't know anything about him other then he's smart and a stray. I still love him and sometimes I'd just drive around on my bike with him by my side!

Jerome was probably my most underused GFH. I had him a few times, but then just forgot about him. I think the concept of an old preacher who survived a war, a holy war, and an apocalypse and is now going around protecting the innocent like some kind of legendary Clint Eastwood character is awesome. Unfortunately, that's where the awesomeness ends. He's just an old guy with a shotgun, a bottle full of fire, and the good Word in his heart. Out of all my companions he had the lowest body count. Sad.

Nana is AWESOME! Even the villains think she's a cool grandma and even wanted to hang out with her. Combine Hurk's dumb-silliness, with Grace's sharpshooting skills, and just a bit of a tone downed Adelaide's personality, then you got Nana. Having her around is super useful. First off, she already better then Grace because she uses a fucking Silencer! Seriously Grace, if you weren't so loud I wouldn't hold you back so much. Second, she's got some funny one-liners that always makes me laugh or smile. She's just a hoot! (My favorite line is "I will die in extreme comfort or I'm never gonna die!") Nana is witty, crazy, maybe slightly perverted(?) and sadly might have Alzheimers. She is just one of those people you can't ever see dying . . . and it breaks your heart when they do.

Horatio, for some reason, was one Fang that I was really looking forward to. When I first learned about him, I was a bit disappointed. A boar? We had a dog, a bear, and a mountain lion last time, and we get a big ass pig? Why not a wolverine, or an eagle, or one of those mutant animals? But then I saw something special. I don't know why or how, but I just suddenly felt like Horatio was going to be one of my go-to's. I used him more then Timber! This big lumbering mass of bacon is tough and awesome. I would send him ahead to run amok in camps, while I stayed back and watched. When you get him upgraded to his third ability and upgrade him to Elite status, he is unstoppable! He can clear out a whole outpost by himself without me rarely even lifting a finger. I had a feeling that he would be a better tank then Cheeseburger and by God I was right! He's my big lovable, self-healing, indestructible tank!

Hurk is always a blast (literally in this sense). He never ceases to make me laugh, smile or just feel giddy. Though I think he's getting sick and tired of getting into these skirmishes and fighting alongside protagonists. Kind of like Jerome though I didn't use him a whole lot. That was mostly because of his weapon. I just didn't have many uses for a rocket launcher (Very Surprisingly) and he would just get in the way. He had more of a body count then Jerome, but not by a whole lot. I was mostly interested in his backstory in the apocalypse. When I heard he had a kid I did so many doubletakes I got whiplash. The idea of Hurk having a kid is almost scary, but the idea of ANY woman letting him touch her . . . is almost borderline mythical. I don't think Hurk would be a terrible dad, considering he didn't get along well with his own pops I think he would try to be the best he could, but I do worry for that kid. Thankfully that kid also has Sharky and believe me that man is a great parent from what I've seen. Also, he treats the woman right and their relationship is both funny, sweet, unique and . . . kinda strange. Speaking of.

Gina Guerra was the one companion I didn't know anything about until a month ago or so. She's a former Highwayman and is the first GFH that uses an LMG. She's also the woman that allowed Hurk to have sex with her, knock her up and have his baby. And THIS is where her character gets interesting. First off she was already in a rocky position with her group, but after she had Blade (she and Hurk's kid) she didn't want her kid to become like her or the Highwaymen. Very admirable for a raider. She doesn't even agree that much with the views of the good people of Prosperity, but she knows her child will have a better life with them then that of the hedonistic raider lifestyle. That right there is enough to make her a very interesting and complex character. There are some other unique things about her, but you all should play with her to discover them yourselves. Trust me, she's one of the most fascinating characters in the game. Used her moderately in battle, not a whole lot, but definitely more then Hurk or Jerome.

The Judge is last. In my opinion one of the more unique characters in the game. Not because they're the only stealthy hunter companion, but because they are originally your main character from FC5. The Deputy. Not really that shocking as people figured it out a month or so before the game's release, but still cool overall. The Judge gives me vibes of Darth Vader, mixed with Predator, silent but lethal. His design helps that it looks ambiguous so you can't tell if they are male or female and their mask, obviously, hides the features. You can never tell what they're thinking and that's the intent. Depending on what you thought of your Deputy and how they thought or acted, it's up to your imagination to guess their feelings. Me? I felt the Deputy was truly brainwashed, but wanted to be released from their hold by Joseph. The Deputy just wants to help people, but until Joseph says otherwise or he dies, they are bound to serve him and God's plan.  
Unfortunately, the Judge is the most inept companion! They're a very downgraded version of Jess. They aren't a terrible shot, nor are they not stealthy, but the AI for the Judge can't think to go around something to get to the target I designated for him. I would choose a target from across the area and they would run back and forth, trying to find an angle to shoot the target and then just crouch in a random spot and NOT SHOOT. This happens . . . many times. And unlike Jess, he can't one-shot armored enemies, which can get very annoying when you sneak, because if he doesn't fire a second arrow after my whole operation is blown and I'm in a firefight! And just like Timber, I thought I would use them a lot, but I was sorely disappointed. He is ranked alongside Gina for most moderately used companion. Awesome character, needs better AI work.

 **The Villains**

The Highwaymen are a very unique enemy compared to others from past games. I would rank them second under the peggies because of their personality, but for toughness, they get first place. I honestly think the Highwaymen are tougher then peggies.

Enemeies still have the same ranks, berserker, bruiser, pyro, but they have a unique, more powerful enemy among their ranks. Enforcers are strong and scary sons of bitches. They are completely decked out in armor and unless you're packing armor-piercing rounds they are going to be a challenge. When you see more then one and you can't stealth them, run and hide. Trust me, they are some of the toughest enemies I've faced in gaming.

But I'm sure you all want me to talk about the leaders of the Highwaymen. The Women of Power: Mickey and Lou. Well . . . they're alright. I'm afraid they're not as memorable as their predecessors (Vaas, Pagan, Joseph). They can be intimidating and I definitely consider them a threat equal to past villains, but they're just not as memorable. With past villains I could remember two or three lines that just resonate, but with the Twins, I don't think they said anything that memorable. Their "power" speech, their second appearance with the kids, and the end of the Second Part of the game where they are explaining how there is "no future" is pretty much it.

They have a good boss fight! I can say that for sure and unlike the last game you can decide their fate (well one of theirs). They do give off this air of intimidation and intelligence that makes me think that they can get away with a lot of shit and have, but I wouldn't say they're unpredictable. That's the difference. With Vaas or Pagan or Joseph, you had no idea what they would do. With these girls it's pretty by the numbers.

So that's it. They're unique villains, but not exactly fun villains.

 **Joseph Seed**

Last, but certainly not least, Joseph Seed has returned and he's as fascinating as ever! Since his reveal in the trailers everyone has been wondering what the Father has been up to after all this time.

I won't reveal much because I feel like this is something people should find and see for themselves. But the gist of it is, Joseph has mellowed over the years. It's almost a complete 180 how different he acts in New Dawn. He's not as confident or calm as he was in 5. He seems more unsure, he has doubts. I think he thought the world would be a better place after the bombs fell. Like there would be no more people to sin and it would just be him and his family. But no, other people survived . . . including people that sin and that are evil. He even has come to terms that his siblings were pretty appalling people and that he should have reigned them in during the Reaping. It isn't until the end of the game that he realizes that he and his blood are just . . . sick. At the end you are given the choice you should have been given in 5. You can kill him or you can spare him (which in some eyes could be seen as more of a punishment, trust me). For me, I ended him. I was still sore about 5 and despite some pity I felt for him, I felt this just had to be done. I'd love to hear your guys' thoughts about Joseph and his end.

 **My overall thoughts? This game is fun, I like it, but unfortunately, it's got quite a few problems. For Far Cry I come for the gameplay and the story, and both were . . . okay. That's just it, the game is okay and I was expecting something more. I don't regret buying the game, not at all, I even bought the Deluxe Edition, but unlike the last games I can't really argue with anyone that doesn't like it because I do see some problems with the game. It also doesn't help that this game came out the same time as Metro, another post-apocalypse game and Rage 2 is just a few months away. Though if I'm being honest, I've seen Metro and, well it looks cool, but I'm not interested. And I didn't even play Rage 1 so I'm not that hyped for the sequel, though the trailer looks fun.**

 **New Dawn is just another chapter in the series and a spinoff at that. I wish there were things they could have done, added, fixed, but it's alright. Maybe the next one will be a bit more ground breaking and interesting. Because this is a spinoff like Primal I expect we'll get back to the modern world. At least I hope so, I really don't want Far Cry to be the next apocalypse videogame. We already have enough of those.**


	12. Dies Irae

Carmina flew overhead. The yellow, shark-faced floatplane was way above in the sky, out of shooting range and hearing range. Its passenger, Deputy Jones opened the passenger door and looked down. They were right above the massive monster rig, infamously called "The Revelator."

'So that's John's pet project to put us back in the dirt.'

She begrudgingly admitted, it was very impressive. The big rig was black, covered in reinforced plate armor all over its body, a spiked plow on the front grill, that already had a couple of dead resistance members stuck to it. Two fifty caliber guns sat on top looking for any reason, large or small to shoot. On the sides, crudely written in white paint was "Rescue me from all my sins, Let me not be derived by fools." Small slots revealed that there were people inside the steel trailer, pointing rifles and LMGs outside.

"One wrong move and I'm fucking dead." She mumbled.

"Are ya sure this is a good idea?!" Nick called from the pilot seat.

"No, but they'll see a plane or a helicopter comin' a mile away. They won't see a woman with wings though." She held up her arms to show off the wingsuit she got from the Rye Homestead. "Did you test out these wingsuits properly?"

"Yeah, they're a lot of fun! But we always landed in open fields, never onto weaponized monster trucks."

"First time for everything. Wish me luck!"

"Good luck and don't die!"

America took a deep breath and jumped off Carmina.

She kept her arms and legs pressed tightly against her sides, her body as straight as an arrow. When she was at a certain distance, she opened the wings and began to soar through the air. The Revelator had yet to notice her. The sentries were still preoccupied with watching the road.

Every second she got closer and closer to the ground, she had to time this just right, else she was dead.

She closed the wingsuit and spun around going feet first. Her feet collided against the back-sentry's head, likely breaking it from the force of the impact, as well as crush his sternum against the barrier around him.

America tumbled on the trailer, grunting with each roll. Her shouts got the attention of the second gunner, but America had already pulled out her M60. The gun fired and turned the goliath into swiss cheese.

A squeak came from behind her and she saw a peggie pop his head out from a hatch.

"What was that noise?!"

America spun her gun around and blasted the peggie in the face. Then she reopened the hatch, tossed a brick of C4 into the trailer, and slammed it shut. Pressing the big red button on the detonator, the enclosed explosion was powerful enough to rock the Revelator. America had to regain her balance else she'd fall off. Fire and smoke escaped from the little cubbies on the sides. Anyone that didn't die from the explosion would likely be permanently deaf now.

America started taking out other blocks of C4 and placed them at certain spots. She placed two on the trailer, one on each main gun, then she made her way to the rig. She must have been spotted by the drivers because the passenger opened his door and tried shooting her with an Uzi.

America ducked, the Revelator swerved. The driver was trying to shake her off. The Deputy managed to get to the rig and plant a couple of bricks. The cultists still tried shooting her but she whipped out Judgement and shot the gun out of his hand.

With the bombs in place, she gave a scout salute to the bleeding peggie and a cocky smirk before jumping off the Revelator and onto the soft grass.

She rolled for a few seconds. Before even shaking off the daze she held the detonator up and pressed the button. The Revelator jackknifed. The trailer and rig separated and performed their own disaster. The trailer turned to the side and began to roll. The rig turned to its side as well, but got hit by the tumbling trailer. It toppled and the screeching, burning pieces of wreckage finally came to a skidding halt by the wayside.

America took her gun and started walking toward the destroyed killing machine. Finding the latches to the back doors, she opened them up and found a bunch of bloody, broken bodies.

*BZZZZZZZZTT!*

She fired the M60 into the confined space. If no one died from broken bones or explosives, then they were dead now.

Walking around the trailer and heading toward the rig, somehow the driver was still alive. Though a bone was plainly sticking out of his arm.

America walked toward him casually. Once she reached him, she used her foot to kick him onto his back. He was bleeding all over and the look of fear was evident on his face. Even more so when the Deputy aimed her LMG at the man's face.

"Wait! Wait!"

He was silenced when his head was turned to ground beef.

Car engines were heard coming down the road. At first America thought they were more peggies, come to help the Revelator, but it was instead an envoy of Resistance fighter. With Pastor Jerome and Mary May leading them.

Spitting on the dead cultist for good measure, the Deputy walked over to her fellow fighters.

Dashing toward her with excited glee was her faithful companion, Boomer. The cattle dog's tail wagged erratically and the Deputy couldn't stop him from licking her face. Not that she minded, it was good to see her Good Boy again.

She was quickly hugged by Cassidy, who wrapped her arms tightly around her. Nearly choking the breath out of her.

"I'm so glad you're alright." Cassidy said.

"We all are." Jerome smiled and shook America's hand.

Mary May also offered her own smile and handshake, then looked past the Deputy at the wreckage.

"Damn Deputy. You are one crazy fucker. No one would have thought to do what you did to take that thing out." Mary said, impressed.

"No one's mad enough like me right now." She said dead serious.

"Are you alright, America." Jerome asked.

"I'm fine, Pastor." America assured, but no one bought it for a second.

"Are you sure because—"

"Look, I know we've taken some hits today, but I've no interest in licking wounds." She walked off toward one of the cars that was brought.

"What do you mean? Aren't we done here?" Cassidy asked.

"Is the sun still in the sky?"

Everyone looked up at the sky quizzically.

"Yes?"

"Then we aren't even close to done."

 **Green-Busch Fertilizer Co.**

"Get that gasoline loaded up! John wants half for the Gate and half for our little surprise for the sinners in Fall's End!"

Joey was the leading supervisor at the Fertilizer Plant. Overseeing all productions of their specialized bliss-infused fertilizer. The project was quick to realize that the stuff was not only good for the bliss-flowers' growth but was also highly volatile.

Lately, that's been proving to be a double-edged sword. They lost a ton of their good fertilizer stored all over the valley. Thanks in no small effort to the patriarch of the Rye family. Since the Deputy's interference of recruiting the Ryes, Nick has been blowing up all their red tanks scattered about the valley.

It was a major set back and would take months they didn't have to produce more.

'But that doesn't mean we're out.' Joey smiled sinisterly at the red gas trucks that were being ready to ship out.

As expected, John had a plan. When the Revelator was finished putting the fear of God into the sinners, they would roll in several of these tankers into Fall's End. Once enough of them were placed, they would be detonated and engulf the town in holy fire. Burning away the Resistance's refuge.

"It will be glorious." Joey said with reverie. The fantasy of all those blasphemers burning alive and losing their homes looked beautiful in his mind's eyes.

Rapid gunfire suddenly brought him out of his imaginings and put the whole outpost on high alert. There were single gunshots over that. Bodies dropped from the roof tops. The lookouts and snipers fell to the dirt with a thud, a single bullet hole to the head showed how they died.

Joey quickly ran for radio to call for reinforcements while his men dealt with the invading force. All the while his thoughts were invaded by nervousness and questions.

'Why are the heathens attacking us so soon?! They should be preoccupied with the Revelator, not leading an assault on us! What the hell happened to the plan?!'

The radio was in sight. Joey smiled and reached out to flip the switch and raise the alarm. But before he could, he felt his chest burst outward and pain took over all his senses. He spun around, out of control, and fell near the radio.

Shakily, he touched his chest and shiny, red blood was what he saw in his palms. He wanted to scream out at the sight, scream at how much pain he was in, but nothing but shallow gasps escaped his mouth.

Once again rapid gunfire brought him out of his thoughts and what he saw astounded him. A woman, with no more then three men behind her was mowing down his brothers and sisters like they were nothing but flies to be swat. Every flash of her LMG almost guaranteed a death.

The light reflecting off her badge, strapped to her belt, told him instantly who the woman was. And his blood ran cold.

'It's her! The Deputy! I thought John had her! What's she doing HERE?!' Joey's thoughts became plagued by fear and dread.

Among the Project, many people had begun to whisper about the rookie deputy. How she had skin made of steel and breathed fire like a dragon. How she was slippery and silent, like a snake. How a single touch from her hand destroyed and killed everything good without mercy.

John had told them to not fear and trust in the Father. To stop with the rumors and focus on the Project. But is wasn't so simple. Eden's Gate was near fruition, until this nobody arrived from nowhere and began tearing apart all they held dear.

All around him Joey saw bodies drop next to his, lifeless eyes stared back at him. Suddenly, he heard growling, a dog. HER dog. It's grey and ragged fur raised threateningly, it maw clench together to show off its sharp, drooling teeth.

Gathering all the strength he still possessed, Joey reached for the radio. He grabbed the walkie and nearly got to the alarm button, but he stopped. He saw the hole in the radio, smoke and sparks spewing out. The sniper round that got him, ripped through the radio as well.

Joey fell back down and could do nothing as the mutt raced toward him. His last sight, before teeth and slobber, was the Snake unleashing hellfire all around her. With the bodies of his people being trampled by her boots.

 **Copperhead Railyard**

Peggies ducked and covered as the Rye family plane dropped another bomb on their outpost. The cult, having just released the Revelator, was very laxed and unworried about the Resistance, thinking they would have their hands full with the monster truck.

They returned to the original plan for the Yard and started gathering leftover scrap to reinforce the bunker. Much to their surprise, their relaxation was put to an end when a shell dropped from the sky and took out several of their own people. The sudden explosion was a signal to the rest of the Resistance to attack in full force.

America whistled and Boomer charged forth ripping into any peggies that were secluded from their fellows. Grace took a position up on the water tower and began sniping any shaggy-haired fanatics she could spot. Her job was to keep an eye on the emergency radios and mounted guns, shooting anyone in the head that tried going for either. Nick came back around and strafed a couple of peggies taken up spots on top of the train cars. He whooped when he landed a direct hit and circled around to do it all over again.

The Deputy mowed down anyone in her way. The LMG she was carrying had so much ammo in it she hardly had to reload. Pulling the trigger, she killed two peggies that tried to surprise attack her from behind a train car. She smirked and licked her lips as she turned to her left and shot another cultist.

Moving through the trainyard, she motioned for her people to toss some smoke grenades into the cars. Doing as ordered, they tossed the smoke grenades, flushing out coughing cultists who were hiding inside. America and her posse shot them down without hesitation.

A peggie somehow got behind the group and aimed his weapon on the Deputy, but Boomer pounced on his back and began shaking his head violently back and forth. The cultist screamed out in pain, but died when Boomer broke his neck.

Cass fired her AR, each burst was a direct hit on a cultist killing them. She tossed a grenade into another train car. It exploded, killing any peggie taking cover inside. She turned around and rejoined America's posse.

She cringed at seeing the hardened look on the Deputy's face. There was nothing but death and vengeance in the Deputy's eyes as she continued to fire her LMG on the peggies. Cass had no love for the cultists, but she did care about America and her new attitude was disconcerting.

Firing her rifle again, now was not the time to be thinking about that. Now was the time for action. They could talk about attitudes and changes when the day was up.

Soon enough the peggies were driven off, only to be finished by arriving cavalry. Jerome hopped out of a truck and started ordering people to start, ridding bodies, setting up defenses and to use the scrap metal leftover to make strong barricades.

He wanted to congratulate America and her team on a job well done, but the Deputy minced words with the Pastor and headed off south to the next target. Jerome shared worried looks with the Deputy's teammates, but he silently nodded giving them the go-ahead to follow her.

Not that that would stop her.

 **Kellett Cattle Co.**

The Kellett Ranch was already a slaughter house before the Resistance arrived. The cult was slaughtering the Kellett's herd, spilling blood practically everywhere as they chopped up the cows and bulls to be transported to John's Gate.

When America arrived with the Resistance, human blood mixed with cattle blood on the muddy ground. The livestock scattered in fear as the peggies and fighters fired off. Everyone took cover wherever they could.

But no matter where the peggies hid, they could not escape from America's LMG. She fired over their cover, keeping them suppressed. A lucky, stray bullet would hit one cultist over the head, ending their life, or punch through their cover and end them there.

Being suppressed also made them vulnerable to the Deputy's other allies. Grace laid on top of a hill and fired at any exposed peggies she could find, ending them in one shot. Boomer would circle around his prey and pounce when least expected. Thinning the herd even more. Some couldn't handle the pressure and ran for the fields, hoping the Deputy would be unlucky and miss. Nick would fly overhead and strafe them or blow them to smithereens with a well-placed aerial bomb.

The VIP of the ranch, a man named Max, a portly fella, wearing a dirty, bloody apron, managed to get to the emergency radio and try calling for help.

"John! John, please answer! It's Max from the Kellett Ranch!"

"Max? What's happening? Why can't I get a hold of the other outposts?!" John answered desperately.

"It's the Deputy, she and her nonbelievers are killing us out here! I've tried reaching out to other outposts, but no one's respondin'! We need the Chosen! We need—"

*BAM!*

Max spun around and fell in the mud. He screamed out in pain and clutched his bleeding abdomen. His screams were silenced when America stomped on his head into the mud. Max tried pushing her off, but the Deputy proved stronger. While she took a break from killing the peggies, she reached for the radio and started talking into it.

"Hello, John."

"Deputy Jones." The mans voice sounded pleasant, but restrained, with a hint of surprise. America smiled at that. "You sure are a busy bee. I can't reach my men at our remaining outposts."

"You wanted wrath, John. So, I'm giving it to all your sheep followers." She looked down casually at Max. Bubbles rose and popped around his head as he continued to struggle for air.

"You destroyed my Revelator?" He already knew the answer when he couldn't get ahold of the driver, but he could hardly believe it was taken down so easily. The whole Resistance was losing to it, but this one woman stopped it dead as soon as she was out?!

"That's right. Then I went after your outposts. You won't find your men. We burn the bodies or feed them to the wild animals. Monsters like them don't deserve a grave. Not like you or your people give the same courtesy."

John was practically seething on the other side. He assumed the woman would be up to her neck in opposition. The Revelator, the planned bombing of Fall's End, so many other plans, up in smoke in one day! She was supposed to lose! Fail! But she was succeeding, becoming more and more of a false hero to the people.

John could barely restrain his anger. America's wrath was spreading to him as well.

"Your soul is poisoned, diseased, riddled with cancer . . . and it must be cut out." Each word sound like he was gargling gravel. "But you refuse my help. You refuse to say "Yes." So, until you do . . . every pain you inflict on this Project will be visited a thousand times on your friends. And I'm not sure how much more Hudson here can take."

America actually scoffed, surprising John yet again.

"That the best threat you have, John? You'll torture the people if I do nothing and you'll torture them if I do something?" She shook her head false-bemusement. "That's the problem with constant torture, John. You can't step it up from that. And good luck inflicting that amount of pain when I've reduced the number your sheep."

"I—I can—"

"I know you won't kill everyone because you need them alive for the end of the world. Send as many of your sheep my way, John. I'll send them all straight to hell and by the time you finally crawl out of that slimy hole of yours, the only remaining peggies will be the weaklings and the cowards . . . and I look forward to killing you in front of all of them."

America fired Judgement on the radio, destroying any chance for John to have the final word. She looked down and saw Max still as a stone. He long since died of suffocation.

 **Fall's End**

"We can stop now, if you want?"

"No. No, I'll be okay."

A sobbing Fall's Ender wiped away her tears and continued her story.

"I called the cult several times that day, demanding that they return my husband. I must have called them over twenty times with no response from any of them. Night time came . . . and so did the peggies." She began to sniffle again. "They came, I remember those big, lumbering fellows, with the red tanks and flamethrowers." Tears started flowing again. "My dog, Betsy, barked at them, but she was restrained to her dog house. They burned her alive before lighting my home on fire."

She covered her face as she couldn't control her sadness. Tears and snot ran down her cheeks and lips.

"I hid in my basement—which was also a bunker. I could hear my house, and all of its memories, crackle and burn away. It must have been an hour before it finally stopped. The peggies went home thinking I was dead. I got out and saw my house . . ."

Now she really couldn't stop and just cried her eyes out, practically screaming out the sobs. Alex and Hannah looked sympathetically at the woman. They had heard stories like hers before, but it was never any easier. So many lives ruined because of the peggies and some of them were because of their interference. Not a day went by when Alex and Hannah felt responsible for pushing the cult into showing their true colors.

Hannah walked around and placed her hands on the woman's shoulders. Comforting her to the best of her abilities.

"I think that's enough right now. Thank you for your time, Penny. I'm sorry for your loss."

Penny just kept crying, even as she exited out the door. Alex and Hannah had bene put up in one fot he abandoned building in Fall's End. The church was getting too crowded, so they had to move other refugees into buildings that weren't being used.

Hannah watched the woman walk off and head toward the church, likely to seek solace from Pastor Jerome. Many looked to the old soldier for guidance and wisdom.

"It never gets easier." Hannah said.

"No, it doesn't." Alex answered, packing up the camera and notebook.

A commotion could be heard on the other side of town. Curious, the two vloggers quickly gathered up their stuff and headed over to see what the hubbub was about.

The sentries watching the entry points of town were shouting to have the gates open and were alerting the town that the Deputy had returned.

A crowd started gathering, people excited to catch a glimpse or even potentially talk to the woman that had made all their fighting possible. As the blockades were removed trucks several trucks drove in, with a unique one leading the way that had a glaring blue eagle on the side.

The trucks stopped by the garage. Out of the Blue Eagle came a dog, a black woman holding a sniper rifle, and the Deputy herself, America Jones. In her arms she held a massive machine gun and a serious look on her face.

The crowd suddenly burst into cheers. Apparently, the woman not only escaped the cult's bunker. But she had also destroyed the cult's pet-project, the Revelator. Then without skipping a beat she spent the rest of the day, hounding the cult and taking back any massive property they controlled.

Alex and Hannah were in awe of the woman that saved them, just like everyone else.

With Boomer and Grace by her side, the Deputy gave the crowd a big wave and a nice smile, before switching back to her serious demeanor. She marched past the people that wanted to talk to her and headed straight for the General Store.

Throwing the door open, the bell above jingled, letting the proprietor know he had a customer. A silver-haired man poked his head over the counter and smiled.

"Deputy! What can I get you today?"

"Yancy." She greeted. She flicked a bullet from her fingers, which Yancy caught. It was a round for her LMG. "I need more of that."

"You're in luck!" He reached under the counter and pulled out several boxes of LMG rounds. "Someone managed to scavenge these off a goliath."

"How much?"

"For you? Five hundred dollars."

America didn't hesitate and tossed several hundred dollars onto the counter.

"Here. Keep the change."

Yancy was surprised to see that amount just be tossed like chump change. When he collected it all to count, he was surprised to find blood on some of the bills. It was blood money from all the peggies she looted.

"Uh, thanks Dep."

America nodded and walked out of the store. She was stopped when Alex and Hannah approached her.

"Hello, uh, Deputy Jones, right?"

"You're those vloggers we saved before I was captured by John's people." America recognized.

"Yes, uh, sorry . . . about what happened to you. If it weren't for us—"

"It's fine. It's my job to protect civilians. It was a bit of a setback, but at least I confirmed that my friend was still alive in John's bunker. As well as several other people. But who knows for how long?"

"That's actually what we wanted to talk to you about. If you don't mind, can we get an interview?" Alex held up his camera and gave it a shake.

The Deputy looked at the camera and gave a confused look. "An interview?"

"Yeah, we've been going around asking people to share their stories with us. Hannah and I figured this would be the best way to convey what happened here when all of this is over. So many people have lost homes and loved ones, the world needs to see just what the cult has done to them." He looked up at her with a face full of hope. "People have been telling me to talk to you. Saying you've been a godsend. A real hero."

"I ain't no hero, Alex. I'm just a Junior Deputy tryin' to survive like everyone else."

"That's not how everyone else sees it. So?"

America opened her mouth to say something, but got interrupted by the Spread Eagle's owner.

"Hey, Deputy!" Mary called. "I see you've met Alex and Hannah. Good! Bring em' over, they got stuff to tell us!"

America looked between Mary and the vloggers. "Can't it wait?! I've got peggies to kill!"

"It's late Dep, and I think you're gonna want to hear what they have to say!"

The Deputy looked at the vloggers and they nodded to confirm the woman's words.

"Yeah. I forgot to mention, we have some news about other Resistance secs in Hope County."

America narrowed her eyes. "Well, why didn't you fucking say so." She started to push them toward the bar. "Let's get movin'."

 **Spread Eagle**

"You've had a busy day, Dep." Mary smirked.

She, Jerome, Nick, Merle, James, Cass, and Grace were all gathered around one of the bar's tables. With Boomer taking a nap under it. A light shined down showing a map of the whole county. Several token objects were set up to represent certain parts of the land.

"You escaped from John's bunker—a feat no one has ever accomplished, destroyed their secret project: The Revelator, and took the remaining peggie strongholds all in one day." Mary listed off.

"As impressive as all that is, how are you America?" Jerome waved away her accomplishments, more concerned about the woman herself.

"I'm fine Jerome." She brushed off tersely. "But the people in those bunkers aren't. Especially Hudson. John's gonna keep torturing her and others if we can't get him to come out. I thought breaking his toys, killing his people, and taking his land would draw the son of a bitch out. But he still wants me to 'become wrath.' Whatever the fuck that means."

"Is that why you've been on such a war path?" Cass asked.

"Yes."

"What makes you think the coward won't just stay in hiding, no matter what you do?" Merle asked.

"He won't. John's loyal to his brother and will do anything he asks. For whatever reason, Joseph wants me converted to his side and has tasked John with this. So, he'll do everything in his power to get at me and make me 'confess.'"

"Even leaving the safety of his hole to get you? Sounds reckless." Grace said.

"Everything these fanatics do is reckless. All in the name of Father Joseph. John's the same."

"And if it doesn't work?" Cass asked.

"Then I'll at least have taken out a good chunk of the cult." She replied darkly, unnerving some of the group.

"Well, the only way into John's bunker is with that key he always wears around his neck." James explained. "So, pissing him off to draw him out likely is your best bet."

"Exactly. So, if we're done with all this exposition, can we get back to what this meeting was for?"

"Right. As most of you know, this is Alex and Hannah. These two were part of a group of vloggers who exposed Eden's Gate to the media. They've been the cult's captives ever since."

"Hey, everyone. Glad to meet you all." Alex said.

"Hey." Hannah said shortly.

"So, spill the beans ya two. What dirt ya got for us?" Merle asked impatiently.

"Well, uh . . ." Alex seemed nervous with all the Hope County bigshots giving him attention. A little nudge from Hannah and a deep, slow breath calmed him down enough to speak.

"Alright," he grabbed the beer bottle that represented Fall's End, "Hannah, I, and our group came here because we heard Fall's End was one of the safest places in Hope County."

"Who told you that?" Jerome asked.

"A man on the radio calling himself Dutch. He's been getting into contact with a lot of survivors. Pointing them to directions where they can be safe. He said, despite John still breathing down your necks, Fall's End has become a stronghold."

"Are there other safe havens?" James asked curiously.

"Yes, but not like this place." Hannah said sadly.

"Here," he pointed to a Cougars button, located on the county prison "here," then a toy boat on top of the marina, "here," a toy truck on the edge of the mountains, "and somewhere here." a plastic wolf set randomly on the mountains.

"All of these locations have survivors that are doing everything in their power to save people and slow down the cult."

"Don't ya mean beat the cult?" Merle asked.

"No, slow down."

"Dutch led us to this place. Said it was safer then other places and from what I've seen. He was right. All these other places are just holding out. At best."

"At worst?" Mary reluctantly asked

"Slowly dying."

"They're gonna be in real bad shape if they don't get aid." Alex said.

"Tell me about this region." America pointed to the Henbane River.

"The Henbane's a mess. Stories of madmen wandering the roads and mists that cause you to hallucinate. There are two safe havens though that the peggies have been unable to touch. The Hope County Jail and the Drubman Marina. Both have been taking in refugees, but the cult and bliss has been making it difficult for them to move around."

"I'm getting' familiar with Bliss. I got baptized by John just a couple days ago." America said confidently.

"We've been baptized too, Deputy. Trust me, what's happenin' at the Henbane is much different . . . it's almost unreal." Alex tried to dissuade the Deputy's arrogance.

"The Marina is being manned by the proprietor, Adelaide Drubman. She's a spitfire that woman, been keeping the peggies away with her helicopter, but the cult's eager to take her Marina. They want to use it as a station for their boats and it's the perfect spot to control the lakes and rivers from."

"Who knows how long they'll last." Hannah said.

"You'll like this Deputy. The Jail's being manned by Sherriff Whitehorse himself."

"Whitehorse is alive?"

"Alive and fighting."

"Yeah. From what I hear he flipped the jail into some kind of fortress the day the cult began their reaping. Their holding out, but Faith ain't making it easy on them."

James let out a happy hoot, knowing his boss was alive.

The news actually softened the Deputy somewhat. The Sherriff was the only one she was unsure of had lived. To know the old man was still alive and fighting caused a smile to spread across her face. The others around her were glad to the Deputy was happy.

"What can you tell us about these other places?" Mary asked, continuing the conversation.

"Right. The mountains are a little different. Jacob is on a fucking crusade up there. You think what John's doing here is bad? Jacob's practically littering the streets and forest with bodies. The Resistance up there can barely hold him back."

Hannah pointed to the ugly scar on her face. "The bastard's training an army up there and he's got beasts called Judges roaming the place. Animals, wolves mainly, that have been . . . altered. They're more vicious then anything you'll find in the wild."

"It was pure luck I was able to get her and the others out of there before Jacob sicked his animals on us." Alex said.

"The Heralds seem to prefer to stay in their own regions. Though just because Jacob didn't chase after us, doesn't mean John wasn't waiting. It was luck again that we got far, but it ran out when they finally caught up."

"That is until you showed up." Alex looked directly at the rookie deputy. "Before you showed up I had nearly lost hope, but it was like a miracle when you and your crew rolled in. I'm just sorry you got caught to save us."

"Like I told you guys already, I'm just doing my job."

Alex shrugged. "Don't really care what you call it. Lives are being saved."

"It's good to know that other places are still holding out." Mary stated hopefully. "Means we all have more of a chance of winning this war."

Jerome nodded, also feeling the sense of hope. "Agreed. We'll need to establish contact with one of these havens as soon as possible."

"Why not right now?" James asked. "I could drive all the way to the prison and meet the Sheriff."

"Bad idea." Alex replied.

"He's right. Reports say that the cult have roadblocks at each entry point in and out of the valley." Mary said.

"Then lets just use the Widowmaker and plow through those sons of bitches." James smacked his fist into an open palm. Mary smiled at the prospect of using her dad's vehicle to hurt the cult again.

"Until John's dealt with, we shouldn't take any unnecessary risks. We're close, once John's gone his people will scatter and we can bring the fight to the rest of the county. It's only a matter of time, the others can hold out a little longer." Jerome said.

America grabbed her LMG and called for Boomer to follow her, before heading towards the exit.

"Where're you goin' Deputy?" Mary called after.

"John's not budging from his bunker and he's made it clear he's just going to keep hurting people until I'm subdued or dead. The longer he's cowering, the longer the other Resistances don't have backup. If I can't get him to come out, then I'll move on to plan B."

"What's plan B?"

"Blow the fucking thing open. I got a tip that some wackjob named Zip Kupcka's got some high-grade explosives. I'm gonna go see if he'll spare some."

"Those bunkers were designed to resist nuclear explosions, Dep. Nothin' Zip's got is gonna bust through that." Merle said.

"Well I got no other choice. Who knows when John'll finally come up for air? At least this way I'm not just twiddling my thumbs." She grunted in anger and frustration. "I'm starting to think I shouldn't have taken his house. He probably would have fallen back there by now instead of his bunker."

"You should rest, Deputy." Jerome suggested. "You've been through a lot—"

"I'll rest when every last peggie is dead!"

Without hearing another word America marched out of the bar, slamming the door shut.

Grace was about to follow her but Cassidy stopped her. "I'll talk to her."

Cassidy rushed out the door and caught up with the Deputy.

"America! Hey, wait, stop!"

The Deputy was half way opening her truck door, before she turned around. Cassidy flinched from seeing the hard stare on the woman's face.

"Come on, girl." Cassidy tried. "You need to take it easy, turn it down a notch."

"Did you not hear me that people are being tortured day in and day out in that godforsaken bunker?!"

"I did hear you!" Cass sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She needed to be the calm one right now. "I know things are even more dire right now, but you can't be losing your cool about it. You need to be strong and focused."

"I AM COOL."

"I've been watching trample people's heads and turn their faces into hamburger meat . . . with a machinegun! And that look you had whenever you killed someone . . ."

"I'm sorry, I thought I was in a goddamn war! Should I have listened to the cultists feelings, hug them into submission, or direct them to a self-help class, instead of shooting them in the head—a courtesy that they would have gladly given to me!"

"No, but that doesn't mean—"

"Listen Cassidy, I don't give a shit what you think! The peggies, John Seed, Joseph Seed, they want to turn us into slaves or corpses and they aren't picky on how they do it. So, I won't either. John wanted me to embrace wrath, I'll unleash all kinds of pain and suffering on his people until he comes running out of that bunker begging me to stop.

"We need you, America!" Cassidy randomly blurted out.

"What the fu—"

"Despite what you may think everyone here looks up to you. Mary, Jerome, Merle, hell even Grace and James respect you and they have more experience in this line of work. This Resistance would be up in flames if not for you. You have risked everything trying to save us all and everyone here knows that. It's why they admire you, it's why the whole town sees you as a hero."

. . .

"Jerome is our rock, keeping us together. Mary is the spirit, keeping us sane through all this madness. You? You're the heart. You keep us honest and good, everything you do inspires others to do good. Do you know how much kindness and compassion I've seen in this town lately? Surrounded by all of this evil and cruelty? I ask people why they're doing this and you know what they tell me? "Because it's what Deputy Jones would do." It's a miracle."

America still said nothing. She just crossed her arms and kept her face stone-like.

"You said it yourself that you keep order. That is your duty. That is your calling . . . and you're letting John taint that with all this "wrath" horseshit."

. . .

Cassidy reached out to touch America, but the woman turned around to face the interior of the truck. Retracting her hand, Cassidy looked down gloomily. She turned around too but had one more thing to say.

"You're a good woman, America. Don't let the Seeds change that."

No response. Cass left America there with her thoughts.

America gripped the door till her knuckles turned white. Her teeth clenched so tight they creaked under the strain. She thought back to everything she did today, specifically how she fought.

Every memory of a peggie today involved some form of painful death. She remembered stabbing crushing, twisting, breaking, burning, shooting, eviscerating, obliterating, annihilating, all without mercy and any humanity.

'So what?' Her dark thoughts swirled in her mind. 'Why should any of these sheep deserve the courtesy of a clean death?'

'Shouldn't I be better though? I'm the law, I need to set an example.'

'An example? Look at all the maimed corpses and broken families, friends and communities. Those are perfect examples of why you should not care what you do to these bastards. All those horrible things, you are doing it for the people.'

'Maybe . . . but maybe this is something I should do for myself . . .'

She looked down at her faithful companion. The hound was lying flat on the ground, staring up at her with those big, pleading eyes. Conveying the same feelings that Cass and everyone else was feeling. Getting her attention, he finished her off with a little whimper.

"Fuck!" Slamming the car door shut, she picked up her stuff and headed back inside. "You win."

Boomer barked happily and followed after America.

'Rest on it . . . kill peggies tomorrow.'

* * *

 **Sorry this is late everyone. This month was pretty busy, plus this chapter wasn't really up to my liking. This actually could have been done last week, but I wasn't completely satisfied with it so I just sat on it for a while hoping inspiration would strike me. It did here and there, but don't be surprised if you come back to this chapter in the future and find it slightly altered. Lightning may not always strike the same place, but it strikes somewhere.**


	13. The Beast Within

A cougar prowled through the forest. Weaving through trees, her sleek body moved like water over rocks. Instinct and memory was leading her. The smell of an intruder as clear as day on her turf. A predator, same as her.

Her massive paws barely made a sound as she rushed through her lush home. Sniffing the air, she knew she was close. Fear, sweat, and blood, food was running, but not from her. She licked her chops; the smell was making her hungry. Perhaps the predator would be her meal instead? A good fight was just as keen.

Half a mile away, the cougar came to a river. A trail of blood was smeared on the rocks. Signs showed a fight, a struggle. Deer blood. The deer put up quite the fight, but judging from the blood it lost . . .

Following the trail, the cougar found wisps of blood waving in the river. Looking up, she found the dead prey . . . and her intruder.

A coyote. Its maw was stained with blood, entrails dangled messily from its snapping teeth. Its fur was a dark brown, almost to the point of black. Unnatural for a coyote, but nothing that concerned her, just intrigued. Its ears were sharp and curved.

Despite her careful footsteps, the coyote lifted its head up, spotting her. Then she saw it. Its eyes. So weird, unnatural, more intimidating then she would like to admit. They were red, like the blood it was eating.

Its stare burned through the cougar to her soul.

Ignoring her inner fear, the cougar hissed and growled. Slowly, she approached. One coyote, she could handle that. With the stag and the coyote, she would eat well.

Then the cougar jumped back, when the coyote began to laugh. It laughed, and laughed, and laughed, disgorging blood and meat from its mouth.

The cougar was now more than cautious. Out of the darkened forest, more coyotes showed up. Just out of nowhere, no sign of their existence. She didn't smell them; she didn't hear them. It was like they just manifested from the air. Summoned by their master, this weird . . . evil thing.

The coyote barked and his minions charged. The cougar was now on the defensive. It swiped its claws, cutting and slapping the creatures away. Their bodies were small and weak, but they were many. She was strong and fast, but only one.

Both sides became bloody and ragged. From afar, the alpha coyote watched with sick fascination.

America's eyes opened suddenly when her radio went off. It woke up Boomer as well who stretched and yawned before bounding off the bed and sat down patiently.

America wiped the sleep from her eyes before grabbing her radio and answering whoever was on the other side.

"This is Deputy Jones." She yawned nearly.

"Good morning, Deputy. Sorry to bother you so early. I wouldn't have if this weren't important." A male voice spoke on the line.

"What is it and who am I speaking too?"

"This is Carl Carmichael. I'm in charge of holding the Fertilizer Plant that you took yesterday. Again, sorry to bother you ma'am, but we got a situation."

"Can't you get Mary or Jerome to handle it?" She had other plans today.

"I would ma'am, but I think this is something that needs your expertise more."

"My expertise?" She shook her head. "Fine. I'll be there within the hour."

She got up and got dressed, putting on a flannel shirt over a white Tee, jeans, and leather black boots. She placed a green trucker hat on her head and set a pair of shades over the rim. Once she checked herself over in the mirror, she looked over to Boomer who was still waiting patiently for his master. America nodded and pat the dog's head appreciatively.

Her head shifted when she heard a car door slam shut. Looking out the window she saw Cassidy loading up a truck. America quickly grabbed her weapons and headed outside.

The Deputy managed to catch the redhead before she left.

"Hey."

Cass turned around. "Hey."

An awkward silence.

"I didn't catch Grace inside." America said idly.

"She left early this morning. Mary-May asked her to head back to the Lamb of God Church to help escort some civilians to a safe location past the river."

"Ah, I see."

The weird silence returned between them.

"And you?" She referred to the packed truck.

"Got a tip on the last lighter—somewhere in the Henbane. Gonna sneak past the peggies and snatch it up."

"Oh, okay. Good."

"Jones, listen . . ."

"I'm sorry." The Deputy abruptly said. "I'm sorry about what I said yesterday and I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. You were right . . . about everything. I've been letting the Seeds get to me, when I should have been putting on a stronger front for the people. For you, and Grace, and the others. I was a dick and I'm sorry."

Cass smiled warmly at America and gave the woman a hug, surprising the Deputy.

"Apology accepted. I know it's been tough for you lately, but I promise, it'll get easier down the line."

"God, I hope so."

The two held onto each other a bit longer than necessary and quickly released when the hugging became somewhat awkward. America thumbed her pockets while Cass coughed nervously.

"So . . . what'cha gotta do today?" Cass said trying to break the ice.

"I was going to see Zip Kupka about some explosives, but I got a call from the Fertilizer Plant just now. They need me to fix something for them."

"Heh. Everyone needs your help these days, America. Guess it comes with the job."

"Most police jobs don't require you to do half the shit I've done since I've stepped foot in this valley."

"True enough." Cass through the last bit of her things into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. "Well, good luck out there. If I'm lucky I'll see ya in a few days, America."

"Yeah." Cass was about to walk around to the driver seat, but the Deputy stopped her by grabbing her arm. "Cass . . ."

"Yeah?"

"Um . . . when you get back . . . uh, do you want—when you're available—to hang out . . . on our off time—you know when we're not working?" She stumbled awkwardly.

Cass smiled. "Yeah. I'd like that."

"Me too."

Cass quickly pecked the Deputy on the cheek and hopped into her truck. Without looking back, the redhead drove off and sped out of town. America just watched her go, a dumb look plastered on her face and her hand placed where Cass placed her lips.

She looked down and saw Boomer staring at her with a thoughtful look.

"What? What are you looking at?"

Boomer just barked noncommittally and walked to the Blue Eagle.

"Don't give me that. You got to go with that golden retriever the other day. I deserve some too."

 **Green-Busch Fertilizer Co.**

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Deputy Jones." They shook hands and walked further into the outpost.

"It's what I'm here for, Mr. Carmichael. But tell me, what is it that happened that makes you think I have "expertise" to handle it?"

"Well ma'am . . ."

They turned the corner and America was shocked to see the place in such a disarray. Despite just reclaiming this location, the Resistance was quick to clean up and rid the place of any cult prints on it. Hell, most outposts taken now looked like they had never even seen a warzone. Last she checked the Fertilizer Plant was no different.

But from what she saw it looked like a driveby of tornadoes came through the place. Crates were smashed to splinters, a car was toppled on its side, and the four bodies covered in blue tarps was the biggest eye catcher.

"What the hell happened here?" Boomer sniffed the air and growled warningly. Something bad was here and left terrible smell. And it wasn't just cult shit.

"A delivery truck came by early this morning—cult claimed. We figured they must not have known that the outpost was taken so we ambushed them when they arrived and took out the driver."

"Driver? There was no escort?"

"None, just the driver. At the time we didn't think anything of it and well . . ."

"What happened?"

"We opened the contents of the truck and were surprised by what came out of it. No supplies or weapons of any kind, instead there was just a . . . monster."

America was taken aback. She stared at Carmichael and the absolute fear on his face. Then she looked at the crying and somber fighters who gathered around the bodies. Walking over to them, she kneeled down and examined the bodies. Some of them looked disproportionate.

Pulling the covers back America was shocked to see one of the bodies had a caved in head. The second was skewered all over, like it was penetrated by multiple protruding spikes. The third was crushed to death, most of the bones reduced to mincemeat. And the fourth looked like it was mangled; bloody bones were poking out and extremities were angled in odd directions.

Whatever attacked these men, it was strong and fierce.

"What did this, Carmichael?"

"A moose. But unlike any you've ever seen. The cult did something to it. Pumped it full of drugs and made it go crazy. After it killed some of our guys it made a run for it into the woods."

"What did it look like?" She pressed.

"Nothing like you've ever seen. Its body was white, but not naturally albino."

America plucked some hair from one of the bodies fingernails.

"Gaunt, like it was starving."

The body with holes in it also had a massive bitemark on its neck.

"Its eyes were unnaturally red. Almost like they shined."

Wiping her hand over the headless body, she found a trace of bliss dust on the abdomen. Just a tiny sprinkle was enough to make her see stars.

America put the tarp back over the bodies and stood up. "You called the right person, Carmichael. First, send the bodies to Fall's End, Jerome will see to them. Second, clean up that truck the moose came in. I think it leaked some bliss when it was released. And finally, third, give me four fighters . . . I'll bring you back the beast's head."

None had to be chosen, four fighters volunteered to join the Deputy on her hunt. A couple of them carried rifles, while one held a sniper rifle and the fourth one, a woman, had a bow. They headed south, the direction the beast fled to.

It was mostly silent, the trek. No one wanted to speak, too afraid that the Judge Moose would hear them and come running. While that would save them some time, the Deputy found it better to find the creature unaware, so she asked for silence, both radio and verbal.

Two hours they walked through the forest. The Deputy led the team by following the animal's tracks via Boomer. One thing she could tell about the beast besides it being a threat, it was erratic. Its steps were a mess, it was wobbling all over the place and even collapsing every few hundred yards. She had only ever seen animals move like that when they were tranqued or losing blood.

Other signs included wrecked flora, downed trees, destroyed shrubs and grass. Then they came upon the more . . . violent scenes. Animals unfortunate enough to have crossed the Judge Moose's path. A raccoon that fell out of—no, knocked out of the tree and trampled to death; reduced to a bloody pancake. The Judge relentlessly tore up the tree just trying to get to the raccoon. They came across a young doe that was completely eviscerated. A buck next to it, brutally stamped to death trying to defend its mate.

"This is getting out of hand." One of the fighters, named Beth, said.

"All this destruction caused by one animal. I just can't believe it."

"Moose are already dangerous enough. But leave it to the cult to mess with nature even more."

"I asked for silence people." America whispered harshly. "I don't want to attract that creature's attention if it's close." Boomer sniffed the ground and point to east. She looked down at the tracks. "And I'm sure we're getting close."

"That's what you said the hour before Deputy, but we still haven't come across it. It's always moving." A man, named Trainor, said. He was the one carrying the sniper rifle.

"Have more faith in the Deputy, Trainor." The rifleman, Gary, defended. "Besides, we have the famous Boomer by our side. Without a doubt we'll find it.

Another half hour passed following the trail. Everyone was starting to get fatigued now. But then . . .

"Grrrr!" Boomer stopped and growled.

With stumbling heft, a hoof stamped the ground. The Judge Moose had shown itself. It was worse than America imagined. The herbivore was gaunt, its skeleton showing through malnourished flesh. What little hair was still attached to it was white as a sheet and course to the touch. Its antlers looked worse for wear, chipped in several places, stained with blood; they almost looked like devil's antlers. Then there were its eyes. They were bloodshot red and manic looking. Just like Carmichael said, they almost glowed from the Bliss dust permeating from it. It slobbered as it breathed heavily, then from its bloody lips, released an ungodly moo as it charged.

"Open fire!" America yelled frantically. The team fired on the charging moose.

Bullets hit it, but did absolutely nothing to slow it. America quickly realized this thing was just like those bears from Orchard. It felt nothing!

"Scatter!"

Everyone got out of the way before they were either skewered or run over. The Judge Moose bellowed ragefully again and made to turn. Arrows struck its hide, but all it did was draw its attention to Beth.

Beth cursed and tried pulling back an arrow to strike its head as it charged at her. She fired three arrows at the moose. One of them bounced off its antlers, the two missed drastically because of fear and stress.

Before the Judge Moose got to Beth, a round struck it, making it veer to the left. Trainor had gotten into position and fired his sniper rifle. Despite the massive damage the moose took, it still ran with full speed. Trainor tried firing again, but the beast was moving too fast, so he either hit a tree or nothing at all.

America and the other two fighters, who were armed with rifles, fired at the moose too. America reloaded the Farmhand and blasted away, hoping the spread would get the animal. It was faster than they thought though, even when they did hit it, it just kept going.

"Look out!" The Deputy cried. She and the two riflemen got out of the way.

One wasn't fast enough the and the Judge Moose trampled him. The fighter screamed in pain and everyone winced when they heard his spine break under the beast's hoof. America called out the second rifleman who went to the aid of his partner, but it was too late.

The Judge came back around and struck the guy with its antlers, spearing him. The rifleman flew back, America came to his aid, but found nothing she could do except watch him bleed out in agony. Then she heard more screams, followed by squelching noises. The Judge had finished off the second rifleman by stamping his body into red paste.

America screamed in fury and brought up the Farmhand. She fired and the Moose recoiled and howled in pain and anger. It charged at the Deputy, who fired her second buckshot. The pellets struck true, even getting the beast in the eye, but it still didn't slow.

At the last second, America managed to duck and roll underneath the moose's antlers. As it tried coming back around, the Deputy pulled out Judgement and fired more rounds into the beast's wiry frame.

Then an arrow struck the Moose in the damaged eye, making it bellow even louder. Beth pulled back another arrow ready to strike, hoping to give the Deputy more time to reload her guns. The Moose snarled and charged at America again.

America was unprepared for the beast and wasn't in a position to dodge. Then Trainor pushed her out of the way, taking the full force of the Judge's charge. Trainor went flying and he impacted a tree; a sharp branch penetrated his side.

Beth yelled, "Trainor!" and ran to him.

The Judge got distracted by the woman's scream, allowing Boomer to leap from his hiding spot and jump on the Moose's back. He bit into the Judge's back, snarling and ripping off chunks of fur and flesh. The Moose howled in pain and started to jump, kick and shake the hound off, but Boomer held on tight.

Both America and Beth got to Trainor's side and pulled him off the branch. He made no sound as they did. Because he was dead; eyes wide open and blood dripping from his mouth.

America was frozen with shock and Beth just cried and cried. She then looked at Trainor's sniper rifle, then to the two dead riflemen, and then at the Judge Moose. Her lips turned into a snarl and her face a deep disconcerting scowl. Something in her head snapped and she made a grab for the sniper rifle.

The Deputy tried calling her back, but Beth was in her own world of red and wrath.

"Damn you!" She fired the sniper rifle as she advanced on the moose. She had no formal training with such a device, so it missed.

"Fuck you!" She fired and missed again.

"Bastard Beast!" Another round came dangerously close to Boomer, but she didn't notice.

"DEMON!" She finally hit it in the rear, but only because she was very close.

Close enough that the erratic moose kicked out and struck Beth in the head with its hind legs. America yelled out when she heard the loud crack and Beth dropped like a sack of rocks.

The Judge Moose finally got Boomer off, who had to retreat else he got stomped to death. The Judge lost sight of Boomer, but it turned to the Deputy. Panicking, America crawled desperately toward her shotgun as the Moose charged.

She managed to grab it, reload, and fall back just as the Moose was in stamping range. On her back, she held up the double-barrel and fired. The impact of the round knocked the Judge back. On the ground it continued to squirm and groan angrily, but it didn't get up. Large pools of blood began to spread around.

America got up. Catching her breath, she just stared at the beast. She kept her distance, not wanting to get kicked or bit. Scowling, she reloaded two shells into the chambers. Leveling the shotgun, she had pointblank range on the animal's neck. It just continued to stare at her with its bloodshot eyes, filled with malice and hunger and pain.

*BLAM!*

Its suffering was no more.

America dropped her gun and fell to her knees. She looked all around her; the devastation, the death. Once again, she survived . . . somehow. Then she sobbed.

She cried into her hands, taking the moment of loneliness to feel . . . weak.

Then she felt a nudge to her side and saw Boomer. Whining sadly for her. America pulled the dog in for a hug as she continued to cry for several more minutes.

. . .

The Deputy returned to the refinery after loading up all the bodies, including the Judge Moose, into the back of the truck. No one celebrated the Judge's demise; they were too busy being somber over four more bodies the cult had created.

While the fighters took their fallen to the truck, America and Carl stayed behind to examine the monstrosity.

"Damn thing is uglier than a I thought." Carl said. He used a pencil to lift up its lip to see its blood-stained teeth.

America gripped his wrist and pulled it away. She stared sternly at him. "Don't get too close. Its body is covered in Bliss dust."

Carl took a cautious step back.

The Deputy gave the animal a harsh look, but there was also pity behind her eyes. "The cult made a monster here. Or more specifically a demon." She reached into her pocket and tossed a small item into Carl's hands.

It was a yellow ear tag. The kind that are pierced on cows to keep information on them. On it read:

"Subject 13: Mammon—Gender: Male—Blood Type: B—Age: 15"

"What is this?"

"Found that on the Judge's ear. It was an experiment made by the cult." She explained.

"I heard the cult was performing experiments on various animals all over the county. Looks like they're succeeding."

"No, they're failing. They want to control these animals." She stated. "They're dumping their rejects on us."

"You mean there's more of . . . Those out there?" Carl replied fearfully, shivering at the thought of facing another Judge Moose . . . or worse.

"Definitely, but I would bet not all of them are moose." America took the tag back and started heading toward her truck. "I gotta keep moving Carmichael. Make sure those bodies get safely back to Fall's End."

"I will Deputy. What about the Judge Moose?"

She got in the Blue Eagle, but answered before closing the door. "Send it there too. Have someone run safe tests on it. Maybe these things have a weakness other than lots and lots of bullets."

 **Kupka Ranch**

America was right outside the Kupka residence and it was not quite what she expected. Surrounding the acre long land was a ten-foot-tall chain-link fence, with four rows of barbed wire at the top jutting out at a 90-degree angle. Along the road as she pulled in were a bunch of post signs that said various words like "Keep Out!", "Stay Off Land", "Trespassers Will Be Shot" and "Free Corn".

The most disconcerting part? The charred bodies lying along the border of the fence. Some of them were lying on the ground, most picked clean by scavengers. A few were still clinging to the fence. The Deputy picked up a stick and tossed it to the fence. There was a big "ZAP" and the stick was set on fire. Thankfully, most of the ground was dry dirt.

"An electrified fence." She looked at the bodies, who's hands were fused to the fence now.

Judging from the look of whatever was left of the corpses' clothes, they were peggies. Seems they were trying to find a way in. Looking up, she spotted about three cameras looking at her.

Not wanting to end up like the cult, America used the front door, which was actually just a sliding gate. There was no way for her to open it though, at least not from her side. Instead, there was an intercom to her left. Pressing the big red button, she talked through it.

"Mr. Kupka?"

An answer came after nearly a minute. "What? What?! Who are you?"

"My name is Deputy Jones. I'm here to make sure you're alright." That wasn't entirely true, but you could never be too careful with these types.

"Oh yeah? Well, how do I know you're not with THEM?"

"I'm not with the cult, sir. I really am—" Her reassurances were quickly silenced.

"The cult? They're only part of a larger problem! Are you with the government?!"

"The government? What does—"

"The government! The ones controlled by those fascists goblins, who command a squadron of brain-erasing ghosts to control the frequencies of all media, so that they have all of the people's minds trapped in a cage like a screaming baboon!"

. . .

. . .

What was she even supposed to say to that?

She pressed the comm button again. "Listen, Mr. Kupka, I'm not with the . . . government. I'm just a deputy of the Sheriff's Office."

"That's just what someone from the Government WOULD say!"

America felt a migraine coming on. She looked down at Boomer who just gave a little tilt of the head and a confused whine. Even the dog couldn't comprehend this man.

"Mr. Kupka, I'm not with the government, I'm not with the cult, I just came to give my help and get yours. Mary May, Pastor Jerome and Nick Rye suggested you to me. If you could just listen—"

"Mary . . . Jerome . . . Nick . . ." There was a pause after that confused response. "They're the most patriotic people I know. If those three sent you to me, you couldn't be a thrall of the established system." Another short pause. There was a loud buzz noise and the gate slid open. "Alright, you can come in."

America and Boomer quickly walked through the gate. As soon as they were a step in it closed almost instantly behind them.

They walked along a long dirt driveway. They came upon the main Kupka residence. A simple wooden homestead, a barn that was turned into a garage—maybe a radio center, if the signal tower on top meant something. To the left was a row of solar panels. On the far side, behind the barn was a shed. A simple pickup truck was parked by the two-story house. Zip Kupka was over near a pile of garbage . . . and burning it with a flamethrower.

As America got closer, she could see most of the garbage was cult shit. Kupka himself was exactly how she expected him to look like. He looked almost like a hobo, with his ragged shorts, and unbuttoned green shirt; a red, flamethrower tank was strapped to his back. He had scraggily, curly hair, and a messy beard, covered by a gasmask. Along his arms, chest and face were burn scars, like he spent too long near a furnace . . . or out in the sun.

Zip stopped torching the cult's junk and addressed the deputy.

"So you ARE that Deputy Jones! I was worried perhaps you were one of them."

America didn't know what possessed her to ask, "One of who?"

"The shapeshifters the government use to spy on their people." He looked around to see if anyone was listening in. "They got some kind of slime from the aliens that crashed in Roswell. Been using it since the Cold War with the Russians. You can't be too careful."

America repressed the urge to smack her forehead, else she become like this . . . person.

"Anyway! It's just nice to meet another individual interested in the truth. A fellow seeker of justice. I heard how you've been stirring the Peggie's globalist plot. Everything about the cult STINKS. You know it and I know it. Say it. Say it at the same time as me—WE ARE SLAVES TO THE GOVERNMENT!"

The Deputy refused to say anything, but Kupka continued on like she had responded.

"Good enough. Now—" America raised a hand, otherwise she'd never get him to stop.

"Listen, Mr. Kupka—"

"Call me, Zip. Mr. Kupka was my father."

"Zip," she said pointedly, "I'm here for your help. I heard that you have high grade explosives on your property. The Resistance could use those explosives to beat back the cult and maybe even blow a hole in John's stupid bunker."

"Hm, while I am concerned with the fact my secret stock is exposed, I do like the idea of using them to hurt the Peggie's dastardly plots. But if I'm going to trust you with my tools, I need to know you're REALLY on the side of Justice and Truth."

America sighed. "And what, pray tell, do you want me to do?"

"World's not comin' to an end like the cult says. That's a demonically driven government ploy of a scare tactic to pull our attention away from what's really happening. This whole county is ground zero for government fuckery. Baby farms, chem trails, weather manipulation, pesticides, genetically modified this, that, and the other."

"Of . . . of course it is." Was all she could bring herself to say.

"There's this place down the way. Flatiron Stockyards. I did some diggin' and found barrels full of that brain meltin' stuff all over that place. You know what I'm talkin' about. The BLISS."

America's attention was completely on Kupka now.

"They're experimenting on the animals there with Bliss." She said.

"Right-O. They're feeding it to the animals and we're EATING them—chemicals of conformity, and what we need to do is destroy the tools that are indoctrinating us."

Even ignoring the whole conspiracy thing, this was a situation to worry about. A Judge Moose killed eight people easily. An entire farm of Judges? Who knows the amount of chaos that could cause?

"I just got done killin' a fucking Judge Moose, Zip. Damn thing was a monster. If what you're saying is true, then we need to shut this place down. Fast. But when we get this done, I want your explosives for the war. Deal?"

Zip eagerly shook her hand, a big dumb grin spread across his face. "Deal! Bout time someone finally listened to me! Hop in my truck, Deputy, I'll take you to Flatiron's. You and me are gonna FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK THE GOVERNMENT! Sideways."

 **Flatiron Stockyard**

The Flatiron Stockyards were exactly as Zip described. A main office building, a large barn, and an entire area of penned up animals that clearly have been blissed out of their minds.

All over, practically discarded, were barrels of Bliss, emptied or left fallen over; the contents seeping into the ground. America watched several peggies dump Bliss into the animal's troughs where they devoured the content with furious gusto; almost like they were starving.

The animals ranged from boars, to goats, sheep, horses, some wolves and dogs, even a couple of bears. They roared and barked and squealed at their jailers, rattling their cages and threatening to break out.

That was actually a relief to America. Just like the Judge Moose, it meant the cult couldn't control them.

There were many cultists wandering about. America counted about ten, though there could be more in the barn. A sniper stood on the roof of the barn. There was a pyro leaning against the shed on the far eastern side. And a VIP just watching the place, while holding a large cleaver and revolver.

"So, what do we do, Zip?" America whispered. The two were hiding in the tall grass, lying on their bellies. Boomer laid by her side, while she peered through her binoculars.

"We?" Zip questioned.

The Deputy looked at the conspiracy nut. "Yeah. "We." As in, how are WE gonna take care of the peggies and the Blissed animals?"

"Oh, uh, perhaps I should have mentioned this sooner, but it's actually just you who's gonna do all the work."

"WHA—" America covered her mouth before she alerted the enemy. Controlling herself, she spoke in an aggravated whisper, "What do you mean only I'm gonna take care of it?"

"I used to work here, Deputy. Before I was kicked out for sniffing to close to the peggie's plans. I got a bond with those animals and I won't be able to bring myself to harm them. So, it's up to you to put'em down. I'm talking euthanasia. It's the only way."

America groaned frustratingly and banged her head against the dirt. How was she supposed to take on all those peggies and fight a horde of blissed out animals at the same time?!

She contemplated calling for backup, have the Resistance help sweep through the place, but then she had another idea. Looking through her binoculars, she saw many of the pens had flimsy looking locks. Must have weakened from the animals forceful rustling.

It hit her then. A way for her to deal with the facility and its inhabitants without calling in people to risk their lives.

Taking out the Fall's Ghost rifle, she looked down the sights and aimed at the nearest pen, which were the boars.

"Kupka." She said, without taking her eyes off her target. "Whatever happens, stay down."

The Ghost fired and there was a loud clang that followed after. The noise caused the animals to freak and the peggies to look around in alarm. The cultists were trying to find the source of the shot, but before they could look properly, the boars burst out of their confines and started attacking the cultists.

While they were distracted by the rampaging boars, more shots were fired by Fall's Ghost as the repetitive noises of gunfire went off. Soon, the canines, the livestock, the horses, and the bears were released from their prisons.

It was complete pandemonium.

The peggies were trying to shoot as many animals as they could, but the blissed beasts were immune to pain and filled with wild wrath. They hardly felt the bullets rip into their flesh and if they did, all it resulted in was making them angrier.

America watched the animals tear the cult to pieces, all the while, Zip was calling out the animal's names for each one that perished. The boars gored many peggies to death. The pyro tried setting them on fire to kill them, but their pain-addled skin made them not feel it. So, the peggies were gored to death while also being burned. This was the end result for the pyro.

"Goodbye, Alvin! First babe I ever held!"

The wolves and dogs ripped into the peggies, shredding them to pieces. The cult had an easier time killing them, but the canines were still formidable.

"Oh, sweet Daisy, you were one of a kind!"

The goats and sheep bit and trampled the cultists. Many died slow and agonizing pain. America saw one cultist get rammed by a goat and stabbed by its horns. Another cultist was downed by another goat and a sheep tore out the throat of the dazed man. A woman got stampeded and was left a broken mess by the crazed livestock.

The horses ran wild like the rest. They kicked and stomped the peggies to death. Neighing loudly, one horse reared back and practically squashed a cultist into paste with its front hooves. The horses were however the first to die. The sniper on the roof saw to that.

"Off to a better place, Claire! I'll miss you!"

The sniper was probably the safest out of all the peggies. She sniped from the rooftop and killed off a lot of the boars, wolves and dogs. She actually did the most thinning out the animals. Then a shot rang out and the woman felt her body go limp. There was a red stain over her shirt, where her heart was. Feeling her body get heavier she fell off the roof and landed with a thud on the ground. She finally died when a bunch of animals trampled her to death.

America quickly hid back into the grass. She had to handle the sniper else the peggies would have more of a chance of succeeding. So far, the peggies weren't doing well against their own creations. The only peggie that was able to hold their own was the VIP. The man was practically ripping through the beasts. Chopping them up with his cleaver then shooting them in the head with his revolver. He was an excellent fighter.

"Bettina, you were the softest! Goodnight, sweet girl!"

The Deputy saw him cleave off a boar's head, put down two wolves by shooting their open mouths. He even managed to cut half way through the remaining horse's head and then put a bullet between its eyes.

"Brock, I'll miss scratchin' your belly buddy!"

His kill streak would come to an end though when the bear showed up. Its maw was stained red and ripping with fresh blood; both human and animal. The peggies were very few now and while there were more animals then humans, they were exhausted and the damage they took was catching up to them.

The bear and VIP clashed. The VIP tried staying out of the bear's reach, but it was too fast and the VIP received numerous, deep claw marks all over his body. He fired his revolver several times, but it barely did anything. He tried aiming for its head, but the bear would not let him get a good shot. Very quickly the VIP's revolver emptied and he was forced to use it as a blunt weapon.

The VIP managed to damage the beast's eye with several precise blows with the handle of his gun. That would be the most he could do though, as the bear lurched forward and bit into the VIP's shoulder. The VIP cried out in pain as he was shaken around like a chew toy. Gripping his cleaver, he tried going for one more attack and the VIP struck the animal's neck.

Blood gushed out of the bear's throat, but it did not let go. With added pressure and force, the bear tore off the VIP's arm and then crushed his body with the weight of its massive size.

The bear had won. Though it was a pyrrhic victory. The bear stumbled away, ready to fight the remainders, but its throat leaked too much blood and it died within seconds.

When the chaos died down, America, Zip and a Boomer walked into the stockyards. Shotgun in hand, the Deputy went around putting down any animal and peggie left alive. There were quite a few of them, mostly animals. What peggies were alive were broken, beaten and bloodied. If America didn't finish them, they'd die within several hours. One buckshot to the brain ended their miserable lives.

"This isn't over yet, Deputy." Zip said suddenly. "I chose this time to strike because I knew a majority of the peggies would be gone. But they should be back any minute now." He pulled out a block of C4 from his pack. The plastic explosive had some sensor device connected to it. "I'm gonna boobytrap the place. Their reinforcements will be met with the fire of God."

Zip quickly ran out to the driveway and set up the explosives. He spread them out about fifteen feet apart from each other. Far enough that they wouldn't detonate each other.

When he was all done, he ran back to America and Boomer, who were hiding behind some crates.

"Any demons come here will be blown sky high. They can never hurt defenseless animals again. Never again!"

The three didn't have to wait long as they heard something come down the road.

"Heh heh. Heeeeeere they come." Zip chuckled mischievously.

Something didn't feel right though. She heard trucks, but there was more of a rumble in the distance as well as in the ground.

"Uh, Zip," America started unsurely, "do you hear that?"

"What?" Zip said and looked over cover. His eyes went wide with shock. "What?! No. NO! They're bringing in cows!"

Sure enough, a herd of cows came stampeding down the road, being driven by cultists in trucks. And they were heading right for Kupka's trap.

"Ryan? Davie?! SHEENA?!" Zip whimpered confusedly. Like the other animals he was apparently familiar with these bovines too. "Ryan! Davie! SHEEEEENAAAAA! NOOOOOOOO!"

It was too late. The cows set off the explosives. They were immediately turned into groundbeef and the surrounding cows were knocked back, mortally injured or also killed. Blood and bloody chunks rained down and even splattered on the peggies. It felt like some Old Testament shit. A dark part of America found the whole situation funny. The realistic part of her thought this whole situation was ridiculous.

Then a round shot passed her head and she realized they were still in danger.

"This wasn't supposed to happen! You bastards! Look what you made me do!" Zip cried out. He grabbed a molotov cocktail from the back of his pants and lit it. He chucked it at the cultist's vehicle, setting it ablaze.

America wasted no time and pulled out her machinegun. The weapon mowed down nearly all the surprised peggies, the rest were lit on fire by Zip and his flamethrower. Soon, al the peggies were dead . . . and not a single cow was left alive.

Zip looked out across the blood-stained road with a far-off look in his eyes. Tears began to fall across his cheeks.

"These poor animals. This hits me right in the feels, partner. But at the end of the day I suppose we won the battle. Still . . . my . . . my heart is so broken."

America did her best to console the man. "I'm . . . sorry for your loss."

Zip quickly turned around and hugged her. America flinched and did her best not to cringe. She slowly reciprocated and awkwardly pat the man on the back.

Zip sniffled. "Thanks, Dep."

"I'm sorry for what happened here, Zip, but I still need those explosives." She felt somewhat bad for having to change the topic like that.

"Yeah. I get it. You'll get your explosives, Dep. Hell, you're good people, I'll even help the Resistance fight the cult."

"You'll fight with us?"

"What? No! I'm retiring, didn't you see that shit? That was fuuucked up. Naw, I'll just make explosives for you guys and point you to places that need a good dose of C4."

Well, that was good enough for her. She really just needed his explosives.

"I'll radio the Resistance, see if we can't spare some people to guard this place."

"Agreed can't let the Peggies get back their precious mind control factory. The poor animals have been through enough."

 **Fall's End**

America dropped Zip back off at his ranch, then headed straight back to Fall's End. She drove the Blue Eagle through the makeshift barricade and parked it next to the Spread Eagle.

Boomer rushed in once she opened the door. The bell rang signaling everyone that she was back.

"DEPUTY!" Everyone inside cheered.

The display of admiration made her flinch, but she cracked a little smile regardless.

Taking a seat at the counter, she was greeted by the lovely, friendly smile of Mary May. Notebook in hand and ready to take orders.

"Good to see ya, Deputy. What'll you have?"

"What do you got?" She needed to hear how their food stocks were doing.

Catching the meaning under her words, Mary's smile grew bigger and answered.

"Enough that we won't have to worry about the people starving. The farms have brought us a ton of produce and the hunters and fishers have caught us a lot of meat. So, don't be afraid to ask for whatever you want, Jones. We'd get it for you even if we didn't have it."

Reassured, America thought over what she wanted. Her mind wandered to the sight of exploding cows and juicy red meat.

'A steak sounds fucking delicious.' She realized just how wrong that thought was, but couldn't deny the craving.

"I'll have the steak. Rare. A side of fries and ranch dressing."

Mary May wrote that down, her pleased smile never leaving. She ripped it off and handed it to Casey who was quick to get it done.

While Mary was doing that, America turned her head slightly and noticed a new ornament hanging on the bar's wall. A moose's skull.

"Is that . . ."

Mary turned to see what she was looking at and said, "The Judge Moose you killed? Yes."

"Why did you . . ."

"We never came across anything like that thing before. Damn thing was a beast. When we heard you killed it, we thought we'd hang it up as a trophy. Mainly to boost morale. Show everyone that the cult and their monsters can be beat." There was a short pause between them. "Do you . . . want us to take it down?"

America looked around and saw everyone joking, laughing, and smiling. In the Spread Eagle there was no war, no suffering. A couple conversation she could make out were about her and her exploits. Mainly about her taking down the Judge Moose. She didn't hear anything about the eight lives the demon took.

'In this place, everyone feels strong. In control.' She thought bitterly. 'Damn it all.'

"It's fine. Keep it there." The Deputy replied.

Mary nodded. "We had our best hunter examine the creature. He said there was enough metal in that moose's body to kill five more moose."

America wasn't shocked by that in the least. "What else can you tell me?"

Mary started cleaning a mug when she remarked. "If you want to know more, you can ask Smokie yourself."

"Smokie?"

The Bartender tilted her head to the right. "That guy sitting in the booth at the far corner."

America looked over and saw an older gentleman of sixty sitting in said booth. He looked to be of Native American descent and was smoking a cigar, while having a plate of smoked salmon.

"Your food won't be ready until a while. You can go talk to him until then." Mary suggested.

Nodding, America got up from her stool and walked over to Smokie. Boomer followed after her, several of the patrons fed the hound scraps of their meals as they passed.

"Deputy Jones." Smokie greeted when she stopped in front of his table. "It's a pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance."

"Yours as well . . . um?"

"Lucas Summers. Though folks call me Smokie, on account that I got a bad smoking habit." He emphasized this by taking a big puff of his cigar and blowing a ring out into the air.

"May I sit with you?" She asked.

Smokie swayed his hand out. "I'd be honored."

America took a seat. Boomer lied at her feet under the table.

"So, what brings you to my table, Deputy?" Smokie asked.

"Mary told me you had a closer inspection of the Judge Moose."

"Hmm." He nodded. "I did. Used to be the High School Biology Teacher before the Peggies shut the place down with their drugs and extortion."

America raised an eyebrow. "I've only lived in Hope County for less than five days."

"Hmph. The school had to be closed down temporarily because the cult bought the nearby land. They sold drugs to kids, namely teenagers, but there were reports the little ones got ahold of some Bliss. Then there were the violent crimes being committed around the place. Apparently one girl stabbed her boyfriend to death when he said something unkind about Joseph Seed. After that, parents just refused to send their kids to school."

America couldn't believe that shit. It was so typical of a cult to brainwash the younger masses with drugs.

'Children are always a target for groups like Eden's Gate. The fact they succeeded is so fucking depressing I don't even want to think about it anymore.'

"Anyway, I checked over that monster you had Carmichael send our way. Honestly, I don't know what to make of it. I had to practically burn the hide because the Bliss dust was not coming off. Its metabolism was working overtime which is why it was constantly eating everything in sight; including meat. Its brain was an absolute mess, doped to the brim, which was one of the reasons it was so psychotic. Every fiber in its body looked burned out. Like it was stretched to the point of atrophy. I looked at its heart and saw extreme signs of taxation. If I had to guess, the damn thing was beating 200 beats per minute. This damn thing should have died on its own, but whatever drugs was pumping through it was enough to keep it going past the point of exhaustion, pain and reason. Killing that thing was a mercy, Deputy."

'So, like the Angels, the Judge Moose was tougher, dumber and stronger. With a 900 pound advantage, plus hooves, and antlers.'

America reached into her pocket and pulled out the ear tag she got off the thing. "This was tagged to its ear." Smokie grasped and examined it. "'Subject 13.' They're testing, trying to work out the kinks of their drugs. There's more of those things out there in the cult's possession . . . more than likely not just moose."

Smokie handed it back. "That's what Jerome suggested. If you do come across more of these . . . subjects . . . send'em my way and I'll examine them for you. Here." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little trinket.

"What's this?" She asked. It felt like a piece of bone, with a red ribbon wrapped around it and three little green beads."

"A charm I made from a piece of the Judge Moose. My ancestors used to believe that taking a part of an enemy granted you a portion of their power, strength, wisdom, courage, etcetera. This Judge Moose was strong, may its strength be your strength now."

America took the charm and smiled as she looked at it. "Thank you, Smokie."

The former teacher nodded and then his attention was drawn to Mary May, who was bringing them two plates. A steak and fires, with a chocolate milkshake.

"Here you guys go." Mary set the plates down and handed Smokie his milkshake.

"Much obliged, Mary May." Smokie thanked and took a loud sip of his frozen drink.

"Yeah, thanks, Mary." America said gratefully. Wasting no time, the Deputy dug into her steak and savored the juicy flavor of it.

"To you, Deputy Jones." Smokie saluted, raising his drink. "To you seeing us through these dark times."

. . .

That night, America had that weird dream again. The one with the cougar and the coyote.

The cougar had slain the coyote's pack, but the black hound scampered away during the deadly brawl. The cougar, injured and tired, could not follow.

She retreated to her home, one of the slain in her maw for sustenance. A cave, hidden under a rock formation was her shelter, just in time as another storm approached. One of many that have been occurring lately.

As she was devouring her meal for the night, off in the distance, nearly out of sight, to red eyes were staring at her. She knew it was the black coyote. Watching her, scheming. The storm was too harsh for her to chase it off. The coyote looked all too comfortable in the middle of the chaos.

Through eating her dinner and for most of the night, the two creatures watched each other. Nothing more.

Because they both knew, that their "war" was just beginning.

* * *

 **Playing through the game, I always found it odd that there were individual characters that didn't look like they were being harassed by the cult. Zip, Wendell, Larry, the cult doesn't seem to bother with them, especially since the cult have no qualms about attacking anyone. So, in my story each character will have a legit reason why the cult stay away from them. For Wendell's case, it was because he was a Vietnam Vet, who still had enough experience, backbone, and weapon to keep the cult at bay. And for Zip? Well, he's just plain crazy and paranoid and that's enough to scare off the cult or at least, create a large body count. Just wait till you see what I do with Larry Parker.**


	14. Earth to Larry!

The Cultbuster sped down the road at 35 miles an hour. Inside, James was at the wheel, while America sat in the passenger seat. Her head was leaning against the window and absentmindedly watched the landscape go by in a blur.

They were on their way to Larry Parker's home. Larry was like America. Mainly in the sense that they were both outsiders; not from Hope County. James got word that there were sightings of peggies around his domicile and wanted to check up on him. James said that Larry was a weird guy, but super smart, so the cult was likely trying to pressure the guy into joining.

The Rookie Deputy unleashed a large yawn and caught the attention of the senior deputy.

"Bad dreams?" James asked, never taking his eyes off the road.

"What?" America said, now fully awake.

"Bad dreams?" He reiterated.

"Oh, uh, no. I'm fine." She lied through her teeth and stared back out the window.

"We all have them, Rook. No one's coming out of this war without a few scars. Mentally and physically."

"Even you?" She asked rhetorically.

"Even me."

America was surprised the young blonde answered. He seemed, out of everyone, enjoying the war the most, or at least, seemed less affected by it. The way he drove around his car, smashing into cultists and handling his gun like some slick cowboy pretending to be The Bandit outsmarting Bufford T. Justice.

Seeing her look out of the corner of his eye, he knew what she was thinking. "I'm a lot of things, Rook. A moron, a risk-taker, a hot-head. But I'm still human. I may act like I'm having fun fighting the cult, but really, I'm just using what I got to protect my home and loved ones. Guns and cars and crazy-ass stunts are all I can bring to the table."

America remained silent.

. . .

. . .

Then her mouth opened, prepared to speak, "I—"

"It's the same with me, Dep. I turned my livelihood and second love into a weapon to keep my wife and kid safe. I hate it, but if I don't act like it's not a big deal, I'll feel a good part of me die inside."

America looked behind her to see Nick sitting in the back seat with Boomer. He was scrunched between the hound and a pile of guns James collected. In his hands, the Pilot was holding his family's signature MP34 SMG, with Carmina's paintjob.

The King of the Sky was currently grounded. The other day he hit several Bliss Depots and Convoys and the peggies responded with bringing out the Chosen. From what America was told, it was a hell of a dog fight, but Carmina took too much damage and needed some serious repairs. So, for now, Nick was a ground trooper. And he wanted to go on a mission with the two deputies.

"I'm sorry, Nick." America said, not really sure what she could say.

"It's the hand we've been dealt, Dep. And the only one who's gonna be sorry is Joseph Seed and his merry band of lunatics."

"Amen, Brother." James agreed. "We're here."

They got out of the car and came across a surprising sight. Dead Peggie's in front of Larry Parker's house. At least America assumed there was a house behind the ten-foot wall erected around the perimeter.

James and America cautiously approached the bodies and examined them. They both came to the same conclusion pretty fast.

"These Peggie's were shot to death." James stated.

"I think that's apparent, James." Nick said obviously.

America clarified for her senior. "But they were shot from odd angles, Nick." She retorted. The two deputies craned their necks up. "They were shot from above."

The Rye patriarch raised his head up, now seeing the puzzle. The angle was all wrong. There was nowhere high enough that the peggies could have been fired on from. So, who shot the peggies from on high and how?

"Did Larry do this?" Nick asked.

"I guess we'll ask him inside. Weapons out." James ordered.

America unholstered Judgement and Nick gripped his SMG. James already had his rifle out and Boomer was sniffing the air for threats, but all he could smell was blood, gun smoke, and metal.

Slowly they approached the small domicile. Unbeknownst to them, once they passed a certain point, a hidden sensor went off.

Boomer perked his ear and growled warningly.

America stopped when she saw Boomer. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" James questioned.

"It sounds like . . . buzzing?"

The buzzing got louder and louder every passing second. At first, the group thought it was a swarm of bees or flies. Then they looked up and over the wall came something much, much worse. Drones, with pistols mounted on their undersides. Red lasers came to life and focused on them.

"Take cover!" James shouted.

The drones went off. James jumped behind a tree, America and Nick dove for cover behind some junk and Boomer scampered off into some tall grass. The drones stopped firing when they were out of sight, but they didn't leave and started scanning the area.

"Well, now we know what killed those peggies!" James said.

He peaked around the tree and fired on the drone. There were a couple of clangs and the drone fell to the ground in a smoking heap.

The other drones converged on James and fired at him. This allowed America and Nick to shoot the other drones, knocking them out of the air.

The drones split up and started going after each of them. As long as they stayed out of the drone's laser sights, they would be okay. But the drones were dexterous machines, they could bob and jerk in different directions trying to shoot them, making the job really tricky.

America popped around the other side of her cover and got one drone in the gyro. It bobbed and fired uncontrollably, shooting one of its own. Nick then got up and sprayed his SMG. The bullets destroyed two drones and dropped them. James leaped out like an action movie hero and got off three shots before hitting the ground. He managed to "kill" the last drone.

"That was nuts." America said. "Did this Larry guy build these?" She wondered.

"Told ya he was smart." James said, kicking one of the drones.

"Can we even trust him? His robots don't seem to have a problem shooting whoever they want." Nick asked skeptically.

"All the more reason why we shouldn't let the cult get their hands on him." James retorted. "C'mon, let's make sure he's alright at least."

Boomer came running out of the grass rejoining the group. The hound sniffed the drones and then took a quick leak on it, before following his master and friends.

America pushed back against the fortified gate and entered the property. It was a lot bigger than she thought it would be. There was a small house, a mobile home with a bunch of satellite dishes on it, and long cables all over the place. As they walked further in, they heard the sparking of electricity. As they got closer to the house, they saw a weird . . . structure in the middle of the property.

The structure was set up in a circular formation, made out of boards of wood and sheet metal. Hanging above it was some kind of metallic sphere. And the whole thing was shooting out electricity.

"What the fuck?" James said bewildered.

"Hey! Hey! You over there! Yes, you! Help!" A man sitting in the middle of the structure shouted.

"Larry?" James approached the weird, little man.

"No, wait!"

James got hit by the electricity and recoiled back. He would have fallen to the ground if both America and Nick didn't catch him.

"Be careful you, dummy! My machine'll fry you if you get too close. That's why I'm stuck in here. I need you to turn off those three generators there!" He pointed to said generators close by.

"How did you get yourself stuck like this, Larry?" James asked, looking all over the insane contraption.

"I-I-I-I . . . miscalculated. Even geniuses can make mistakes now and then. Now if you'd please, shut this thing down."

James, America, and Nick headed to each generator and shut them all off at the same time. The electricity dissipated and Larry ran out as fast as he could. He looked overjoyed to be free.

"You're here for me, right? Anne sent you? Anne said there'd be help soon. Your timing is NOT a coincidence." Larry spoke fast and anxious-like.

Larry was exactly how America imagined him. A middle-aged, bespectacled man, with greying dark hair, messy beard, greasy skin, covered in grey clothes with a weird kiddy-looking alien on the shirt. He was wringing his hands and his eyes looked at them shiftily.

'All he's missing is a tinfoil hat and he's complete.' She joked internally.

"We don't know any Anne, Larry." James said. "And we weren't sent by anyone called that. We're just here to check up on you. Heard the peggies were coming after you or something.

Larry waved his hand uncaringly and started going over the structure. "Bah! Never mind this cult nonsense. I-i-i-it's a pointless distraction. You guys and I have more important things to do."

"More important than saving Hope County?" America drawled.

"YES!" He stuck both his middle and index fingers out. "Two words: Imminent Threat. T-two more words: Global Catastrophe! I-I-I can't say more, they could be listening to everything we say. Listening in on key words, so they can zero in and BLOW US TO SMITHEREENS."

"Who? The cult?" Nick asked, more confused than ever.

"NO! Aren't you listening? They want you to focus on the cult. They want you distracted on the mundane problems of this world so they can STRIKE. But we won't let them! I've got a plan to stop them and all we gotta do is destroy their listening devices on the PurpleTop Telecom Tower."

"What?" James spoke everyone's thoughts.

"Ugh! I gotta explain—if we don't do that then we can't outsmart them, a-a-and if we can't outsmart them, we can't out maneuver them, and-and-and—damnit you get the idea. It's showtime!"

Suddenly, James slapped Larry across the face.

"Ow! What the—"

"Larry, get ahold of yourself! We only came here to check up on you to see if you were alright." He looked the man up and down. "I wouldn't say you're alright, but you're unharmed."

"God damnit James! There's no t-time for this w-w-wishywashy nonsense! The world is at stake!"

"Yeah. Yeah. I've heard your conspiracies before, Larry. I listened to you every time I took you in for theft and trespassing and public nudity. But I don't have time to indulge them right now. I got a county to save."

"There won't BE a county if—"

"If you're this energetic than we can leave you. OR, better idea, you come with us back to Fall's End—"

"NO! I-I-I can't go to Fall's End. All my equipment is here! A-A-Anne needs me! My machine must be c-complete!"

James sighed in annoyance. "Fine. Whatever. You made those drones, right? I guess you got proper protection." He crossed his arms.

"Yes, yes. My security system keeps out the—wait. How did you guys get past my security system?"

They showed him the destroyed drones outside the wall. Larry fell to his knees and cried out.

"My drones! They kept me safe from the idiots of the world!" He wailed.

"They were tricky sonsofbitches." Nick said. "Nearly shot my head off a couple times."

"They were really impressive." America added.

"Of course, they were!" Larry cried. "They were of my own design. Built in special dampeners to take the recoil of the guns. Primitive technology, but what can you expect from earth."

Both Nick and America looked at each other strangely. What did Larry mean by that? James was the only one unaffected by the weirdo's ramblings.

"The Resistance could use stuff like that." James suggested. "Don't suppose you could give us the blueprints for those things?"

Larry got up and gave them an angry look. Nowhere near as intimidating as he thought it was.

"After you shot up my only defense during this crucial time in humanities history?" He remained silent, opting instead to give them the finger.

James once again sighed.

"Come on, Larry." America pleaded. "We need every advantage we can get against the cult. Lives are on the line."

"What do you think I've been doing! That machine over there will save more lives than you lot ever will in this backwoods hole of a dung pile!"

"Why you little—" Nick grumbled, angry the little-man would insult his home. He took some steps to get in the nerd's face, but he was too slow.

James was the first to grab him by the collar and practically growl in his face.

"Listen here you little shit, I've been patient so far with you because you're not like everyone else, but my job is protecting the people of this county. And I'm not gonna sit back and let you insult my home while innocent people are suffering and dying in it. I'm laying down the law here; either cooperate with us or I'm gonna . . ." he raised a fist ready to strike the genius in the face.

Larry began to whimper and struggle in the blonde's grasp. But before the fist came down, America intervened.

"Wait, James!" She grabbed his arm. "Cool heads. We need to keep cool heads. Maybe we can reach a compromise." She suggested.

Larry was quick to follow up on that suggestion. "Y-yes! I know! You guys need guns, defenses, security. I have plans for all of those and more! Help me finish my machine and I promise, I'll give you my schematics for my drones as well as some other cool shit you can make out of junk."

James stared the nutjob down for a while. His features still hardened with anger. After thinking it over, he dropped the guy like a rock.

"Fine. We'll help you, Larry; as stupid as this is. And you better keep your end of the bargain."

"I w-will." He shivered.

"So, what do you want us to do again? Go to the PurpleTop Telecom Tower?"

"Yes! Go there and destroy the dishes on it. That way they can't hear our signals and conversation."

"Who are they? You haven't told us" Nick asked, tired of this guy's shiftiness.

America looked at James who didn't seem surprised or annoyed by Larry's secrecy. He knew what Larry was talking about, but kept silent.

"All will be explained in time. Here!" He tossed them a set of keys. "Take my helicopter in the back. You'll get there faster with it, less climbing, y-yaknow?"

Without waiting for a response, Larry scooped up a drone and ran back to his house to do some maintenance. The three went to the back and found the helicopter Larry was talking about. They pulled off the tarp covering it, revealing a Kaumbat H-04B Foxfly. A bubble copter, fitted with four seats and no weapons.

"Figures he didn't arm this thing." Nick grumbled.

"Let's just get this over with." James said. He tossed the keys to Nick. "You're flying, Rye."

They took off and arrived at the tower in no time. Flying was the fastest way around Hope County.

"That Larry guy's a real dick." Nick said over their comm. He was flying circles around the tower while both America and James took shots at the dishes.

"He is, but he's also really smart. We need that for the Resistance." James said.

"I'm all for that, but what the hell is he making us do? You seem to know him, James. What's he going on about? Is he just paranoid or what?" America said, pulling the trigger shattering another dish.

"We're not friends. I don't know him that well, just arrested him several times. I listened to his crackpot stories so he think of me as an ally, but if you really want to know . . . it's aliens."

"What?!" Both the rookie and pilot shouted. Even Boomer, who barely understood the humans looked inquisitively at James.

"The dude thinks aliens are invading Earth or something. Ever since he showed up in Hope County that's all he's gone on about. He took a job at a radio station so he could buy that cheap-ass property and use the nearby scrapyard. He quit, but not before wrecking the station, saying: 'This way they don't listen in.'" James blasted another dish

"Jesus. We're dealing with a tinfoil hat loon. Wasn't Kupka enough?" America muttered, looking up at the sky asking God why he was making her deal with these people. She took out the final dish at the very top.

"Loon is too kind, but no one can deny his intelligence. We play along for now, whatever gets us those drone schematics." The deputies returned to their seats when they finished off the dishes. "Alright, Nick, take us back."

Nick pulled the copter around and headed back to Larry's place. James got on his radio and informed Larry about the success of the mission.

"Great! If you guys, me, and Anne don't work together, you can forget Fall's End, heck you can forget the entire planet! H-how's that for raising the stakes!"

"We're good on where the stakes are, Larry. Cult's enough, don't need to go adding E.T. to the list of problems." James said.

"There's a scientific term for what we're up against, James: ALIENS! A-a-and not the fun kind that will slip a probe in your backdoor. No, the ones we're up against a-a-are selfish lovers and real dickheads."

"Sounds like they'd fit well on this planet." America joked, garnering laughs from both her senior and Nick.

"You joke, but we'll see if you'll be laughing when their burrowing under our cities and raining death lasers down from the sky. You'll see-hold on—what—who—oh my god, James! James get back here, it's Eden's Gate, they're in my compound."

"How many?" James asked urgently.

"I don't know. I've shut myself in my house, get here quick! Before they destroy my machine!"

"Nick, need'ya to speed it up."

"On it, amigo!"

Nick pushed the helicopter to its very limits and they got back to Larry's place in record time. Just as Larry said, peggies were all over the place. A count of eight. Four were securing the perimeter, two were checking out Larry's machine and the last two were trying to bust down the door to Larry's home.

James got his modified rifle ready and America pulled off her machinegun. With the high ground to their advantage, the peggies were quickly eradicated. James scoped and dropped any peggie in his crosshairs and America just rained hot metal down on them. The peggies fought back, but they just weren't enough

Nick landed the copter when the coast was clear. Larry came running out. Overjoyed to be safe he skipped over a dead body.

"Nice work sidekicks! Now that my compound is secure, we can move on to mission Numero Dos!"

He motioned for them to follow him inside. The interior was dark. Barely a light to illuminate the place. America had to plug her nose for a moment because it smelled of sweat, grease, metal, and week-old pizzas. And the look complimented the smell. Trash was all over the place, papers hung messily on the wall and floor. There were piles of food in the kitchen, as well as unwashed plates. In the entry-room were filing cabinets, a worn couch, a bunch of radios, telephones and monitors, and four TVs with flickering images that were of some field.

Larry stopped and fiddled with the monitors. "This is where it gets interesting. THIS is where I'll put any skepticism to sleep. If we're gonna get to phase three together, then you all need to see the truth with your own eyes. You need to see, that THEY . . . are already here."

"You mean, the 'aliens?'" Nick said condescendingly.

"D-damnit James! You told them?! How many time do I have to tell you about spreading it around? You want them to find me?" He looked back to Nick and America. "I-I-I'm not crazy! I'm about to point you guys to evidence that aliens are invading our planet." He turned back to his monitors and gave them the rest of the brief. "Head west to the Bradbury Farm and collect some alien samples. They'll be in the field, can't miss them. They glow at night and the humming drives the animals crazy. Only a matter of time before it drives us crazy too! Careful though, cult's been snooping around there too."

"Drives animals crazy? Will Boomer be alright?" America asked looking down at her dog in slight concern.

"Oh, y-y-yeah, the dog'll be fine. They're one of the more intelligent species on earth, along with dolphins, pigeons, crows, and rats. He might get a l-little irritated by the noise, but should be safe."

Boomer just gave all the humans a questioning gaze, especially the one that smelled of oil and pizza.

James sighed. "Come on, let's just get this over with. We're taking your copter, Larry. It'll get us to the farm faster."

"Yes! Faster is good! Anne likes things running smoothly as well as quickly."

When they were off of Larry's property and in the air, Nick voiced his concerns.

"James, I'm all for helping out the little guy, but that Larry's a right twerp. Why are we doing what he asks instead of just taking him back to Fall's End?"

America was petting Boomer when she spoke up too. "I'm kind of in agreement with Nick. I know I steered us into a more diplomatic route, but that Larry-guy's attitude is crap. He talks to us like we're inferior."

"Trust me, I'd love to just drag that guy to Fall's End if I could, but it's best we play to his ego so he works with us. When his doohickey fails, we bring him back, and we get all his tech savvy knowhow. Drones to protect our supplies and guard our borders; maybe even some stealth assassination. Technology is the future my friend and we're going to use it to our advantage."

It didn't take long to arrive at the farm and the group was shocked to see the field. Specifically, what was imprinted on it.

"What the fuck." Nick mumbled.

"You said it, Nick." James said, equally bewildered.

Outside they could see what was clearly crop circles in the wheat field. Five circles, one large circle that split into four, one below it, and three on top of it.

"This was not here the last time I checked." James said.

"Did Larry make this?" America wondered.

"He had to!" Nick shouted, almost desperately. "Everyone knows crop circles are a hoax. Who else is stupid enough to make these in the middle of a fuckin' war?"

James once again sighed. "Let's just get these . . . 'alien samples.'"

 **30 Minutes Later**

The three plopped back into the helicopter, tired, irritated and beyond frustrated and kind of disturbed.

When they landed, they were immediately attacked by the cultists. There were only a few, so the deputies made quick work of them. The peggies were apparently examining a bunch of dead cows in the center of the farthest circle. Physically the cows looked fine, but a note left by the cult said they died from a brain hemorrhage, but there was no sign of what caused it.

They found their first alien sample near the rectum of one of the dead cows. The object was forced both in and out of the poor animal. America . . . collected it and it was unlike anything she'd ever seen. It looked like a blue golf ball, but a few inches bigger. It glowed brightly just like Larry said and the light emanated from a core she couldn't see through a bunch of holes scattered around it. It also released some kind of annoying sound that resonated through their heads.

"I thought Larry said these aliens didn't probe." America said at the time trying to lighten the mood.

The men stayed silent, either because they had nothing to say or didn't want to say anything.

The next sample was located in the upper mid-circle. It was surrounded by a flock of crazed turkeys. They just ran around the ball and attacked when any of them tried to get near it. Boomer did his best to fend them off, but the plump birds were relentless. After receiving several scratches, the group decided they had to be put down. Despite Larry's reassurances, America was worried the balls would affect Boomer, but the dog showed no signs of aggression or confusion. He tore into the turkeys as he would have a cultist and afterwards, he was his usual good boy self.

The third sample was apparently hidden behind some crates, but was snatched by a golden retriever at the last second. The dog bounded off and America and Boomer gave chase. Again, just like Boomer, it showed no signs of aggression, it just wanted to play. After a few minutes of running around they managed to get the ball back and the retriever ran off somewhere back to the farm.

The last sample was much trickier. At first, they thought the sample was hidden somewhere, perhaps buried by the golden retriever. Then they were divebombed by bald eagles. Taking cover, they looked up and realized on top of an old silo was an eagle's nest. They had no choice but to climb the damn thing, nearly falling to their death several times. When the got to the top, sure enough, the ball was mixed in with the bird's eggs. They carefully removed the ball without disturbing the nest, but the eagles didn't leave them be. They chased them all the way back to the copter and the group could do nothing, not even fight back, because it was their country's most sacred animal.

As Nick got the helicopter started, America looked over to her senior, breathing heavily. "That was fucking ridiculous."

"Couldn't agree more Rook." James agreed.

America rifled through the bag and looked at the balls on closer inspection. "What the hell are these things? I've never seen anything like them? They certainly don't look man-made."

"They have to be. Larry must have made them and hid them on the farm or something." James said.

"You saw those animals. They were acting super weird." She said, examining the deep scratch marks on her arms and clothes. The bald eagles slammed against the helicopter, scratching the glass, but not doing much else. They were as relentless as the turkeys.

"Those things are giving off a weird frequency. I've heard stories of the government messing with signals that can cause people and animals to go crazy. It's not new technology. Larry's smart, I have no doubt he made them." James suggested, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

"So, he made those crop circles, left behind animal trinkets, and built his machine all in the span of a couple days?" America retorted skeptically.

"Why not?" James didn't budge.

America didn't really have a rebuttal for that. All she could do was put the balls away out of sight and wait for Nick to get them back. Nick didn't add anything to the conversation and just kept focus on the skies.

When they returned, Larry practically snatched the satchel out of America's hands and ran right back into his house. All the while explaining the next part of his plan, so the group had to run after him.

"Ah, look at these. These are perfect! Well done my sidekicks!" Larry yelled excitedly.

"Sidekicks?" Nick grumbled.

"With these I can finish the Dynamic Laser Capacitor."

"What's that?" America asked.

"It's a little hard for such tiny minds to understand. Let's just say it'll help me reach those hard to reach places." Larry replied backhandedly. America gave him a wicked glower.

James stepped forward. "Alright, Larry, we shot some dishes and got back your weird ball-thingies. Are we done yet?"

"Not yet, I first got to finish the Dynamic Laser Capacitor. And while I complete that you guys'll have one last mission to undertake. And when that's done, the real fun can begin. D-don't get me wrong t-t-this has been great. I'm just ready to move on to a new adventure. Something similar, but with just enough novelty to justify the cost. You know what I mean. You get it."

"What the fuck are you yammering about?" Nick said, now losing his patience with the yahoo.

"Can't tell ya, better to show ya; too many ears everywhere. As for the last thing I need: POWER. I need more than the local grid is supplying. A-a-and I know what you're thinking, but summoning lightning is out of the question! I'm not doing that again."

"Nobody was thinking that." Nick spat; arms crossed.

Larry ignored him. "Now, the transformer station is to the north. S-s-should have enough wattage. We just need to reroute all the electricity straight here. That should give me enough juice for one go."

"One go for what?" James asked annoyed. "Look, Larry, we've been jumping through some weird hoops for you all day, when we could be fighting the peggies. What exactly are you trying to accomplish here?"

"I told you, we're trying to save the world from IMPENDING DOOM!" James tried to ask more questions, but Larry started shoving them all out of his house. "Now get going! We only have one chance now and you can't blow it or all is lost! While I work on the probes, you lot get me my power. Good luck!" And he shut the door on them.

They all just looked at the door for a minute. Then America said, "You know, I'm starting to not like him now."

"Really? I started that the moment I met the guy." Nick said.

"Let's just get this over with. If he asks more of us, then that's when we'll draw the line. For now, we get him his power."

Once again, they took the quick way and flew in Larry's copter. Surprisingly there was not much resistance at the power plant, just a few peggies that were easily dispatched. It was after they started rerouting the power the peggies started coming in force. Alarms went off and peggies came rushing in for battle. While America and James fended off the cult, Nick got to work finishing the rerouting. By the time Nick was done, all the peggies were killed. After reporting to Fall's End about the capture of the power plant, the group returned to Larry's home, where he was setting up the final touches of his machine.

Larry was in the middle of fiddling with a generator when he turned to the group. "You got the power! Everything's set now, are you ready? I was . . . until I had to repair the generators. Because of you Anne and I are gonna save the galaxy!"

"So where is this Anne?" America asked, looking around.

"Oh, she's not here. As in here "here." She's been monitoring us while we've been getting to work. She's wonderful that way. I'll be going to where she is."

"Riiiiight."

"And where is that?" James asked.

Larry pointed up, posing like some kind of scifi-anime action hero. "To the stars, my friends. To the stars."

They just gave him a blank look.

'He's not cool enough to pull that off.' America thought.

"Wait, so this fuckin' thing's a . . . teleporter?" Nick asked incredulously.

"Yes! Yes it is!" Larry proclaimed proudly.

"To outer space? Like in the Avengers?"

"NO! Not like the Avengers, those posers. This is real life science! Much, much cooler!"

. . .

. . .

. . .

"N-now I know what you're thinking . . ."

"I highly doubt that." Nick said quickly and quietly.

"I too wish you could come along, but it's too dangerous. Anne asked for me and me alone and this mission cannot be jeopardized. That and I built this machine to send only one person through. We all go in, we'll come out like a Cronenberg."

Larry walked into the middle of his structure, standing about where they first found him, minus the dangerous currents of electricity.

"But, don't feel left out! Be proud of what you guys helped achieved. You served your purpose! Nothing left for you to do but bear witness to your stellar contributions!" He stood straight and proud, with his hands on his hips as the wind blew his coat like a cape.

. . .

. . .

A moment passed and the wind died down. The group just stared at Larry, who meekly deflated and said, "A-actually you . . . have to click that button for me. On the generator. But that's the very, VERY, last thing . . ."

"Before we do that, Larry," James started, "What about our schematics? The blueprints for your drones, so we can fight off the peggies? Remember our deal?"

"O-oh! Heh, heh, yes, I didn't forget. I just thought you all realized the insignificance of your fight compared to the bigger scope of the universe's problems."

"Yeah, no, we're still fightin' the cult." Nick stated.

Larry quickly fished a key out of his pocket and tossed it James. "It's in my safe, can't miss it. It's got my plans and then-some in there. You can even have my magnopulser in there."

"Magnopulser?" America questioned.

"Now will you please press the button? Anne's a waiting!"

James looked over at America and gave her a confirming nod. The Deputy walked over to the generator by the front door—and pressed the button.

The generators came to life and electricity coursed through the whole structure. Sparks shot out and converged on the orb.

"Yes. Yes! It's working! ITS WORKING!"

At first the three were unimpressed or unfazed. Then something weird happened that concerned them.

The orb started flashing a bright green. The light got brighter and brighter and pulsed. Suddenly, a blinding green beam extended upwards toward the sky, shooting out like a spotlight, but with more power. It was such a spectacle that everyone in the Holland Valley could see it.

The surprises kept coming as Larry was lifted off his feet by an invisible force. Larry just kept smiling like an idiot, elated with what was happening. The guy would have been lifted head first into the orb, then his body disappeared piece by piece.

The orb exploded and the light disappeared. As well as Larry.

For several minutes, the three just stood there. Dumbfounded. They didn't move, didn't blink, didn't say a word, as their minds raced to process what they just saw. They were shaken out of their stupor when their radio crackled and Jerome's voice came over.

"Deputy? Jones! Did you see that light?!" The pastor shouted.

Mary's voice then came on. "The whole valley could see it. It parted the freakin' clouds for Christ's sake. That looked like it came from Larry Parker's house—what happened?!"

America composed herself first and did her best to answer. She paused, realizing: what could she say? "We'll ... get back to you."

The three stepped forward cautiously approaching the machine. Boomer sniffed the ground looking for Larry, but there was no trace of him, so the hound just sat down and whined in defeat.

Whatever happened wrecked the machine. Parts had fallen off or melted into slag. The large silver orb that was at the very center was gone. Exploded into pieces that laid everywhere.

America was the first one brave enough to walk in. There was no sign of Larry. Then she looked down and found the only thing that remained of him: his shoes. Devoid of Larry and smoking like a grill.

She picked them up and showed them off to the others.

"HOLY SHIT! Did we disintegrate him?!" Nick panicked.

"I . . . don't think so." America said, somewhat unsurely. "Otherwise there wouldn't be anything left. No shoes and there would be a . . . dust pile."

"Oh god." Nick breathed and leaned on his knees. He had no idea what to think. They either killed the guy or they . . . actually sent him somewhere else. Neither thought relieved him of anxiety.

They took a long, long moment to process what had happened before they went inside to collect what Larry promised. They expected Larry to still be around to just give it to them . . . but that was never going to happen.

Surprisingly, Larry did indeed keep his promise. In the safe, under the table, were schematics for building attack drones, as well as other ideas such as RCs that can deliver explosives. On the table was one last item. A weird looking gun.

It was big and bulky and unlike anything they ever saw. It had parts inside that were constantly moving and gyrating. It was hard to describe but the majority of the gun was circular and had three grips attached to it. One that was like a regular handgun grip and two on each side.

"What the hell is this thing?" James wondered aloud.

The senior deputy picked it up and examined it, flipping it over and even staring down the gaping hole of a muzzle.

"Uh, Heller, I don't know if you should be messing with that." America said hesitantly.

James ignored her and pointed it at the ceiling of the house. He barely squeezed the trigger when some force was ejected from the gun and blasted a pothole in the roof. Nick, America, and Boomer covered themselves from the debris and were shocked by the devastation left behind by the strange weapon. James was knocked back to the ground, just as shocked by the power of the gun.

"What the hell was that?!" Nick shouted.

"That must the magnopulser that Larry talked about." America suggested. "That's my only guess."

"This thing's got some devastating kick to it. Imagine what it would do to a peggie."

They let that thought settle in their brains for a second. Their imaginations kicked in.

"I think we should store that thing for the time being." America suggested.

"Agreed." James responded.

"Yep." Nick agreed quickly.

"BARK!"

The next minute, they threw the weapon into the trunk of the Cult Buster and slammed it shut. They all got into the muscle car and sped away from the crazy guy's home. The last sight of it was when James looked in his rearview mirror.

Silence was filling the car. No one talked, either because they didn't want to or didn't know what they wanted to say.

They were half way to Fall's End when Nick spoke up. "What are we gonna say about all of . . . that?"

James and America looked at each other then back to the road.

"We tell them that Larry offed himself with one of his crazy experiments and we never bring up what actually happened. In fact, we forget just what the fuck happened with Larry Parker."

"I'm good with that."

They told everyone in Fall's End that very story. Jerome and Mary were the only ones to show skepticisms, but they never pushed it. If both Deputies and even Nick Rye didn't want to share what actually happen, then it must be for a good reason. Everyone else just didn't care; Larry Parker had no real friend in Hope County. They got the most tech savvy of the Resistance members and got them to work on building drones.

The rest of the day was spent with America, James, Boomer, and Nick looking up at the sky, alcohol in hand, with more questions on their mind and just a hint of fear.

If Larry Parker was right about . . . aliens . . .

Just what else was out there in the unknown?

* * *

 **This chapter is probably not going to be to everyone's liking. For one reason it really diverts from the story. I realized that as soon as I started Larry's missions. To be fair, Larry's sidequests, even in the game, felt like a story that was just mixed up in the Deputy's story. Unlike a lot of the sidequests, helping out Larry doesn't really aid you in fighting against the peggies, except maybe for that power plant fight.**

 **That's why I added the attack drones, so that there was at least a legit reason why the Deputy would stop what they were doing to aid a weirdo like Larry. In game he doesn't really promise you anything, not even the magnopulser, so here I added an incentive to get the deputies to stay. It also gives a reason on why the cult wasn't bothering him in in-game. I mean, out of everyone in Hope County, he should have been the first to be taken or raided.**

 **Some of you might not like how I made Larry act, but I felt it was what he would be like if the Deputy talked to him. Larry doesn't seem too concerned with the cult or the people they are hurting. He more self-interested than anything. And constantly he belittles the Deputy by calling them dumb or simple-minded. To me, he's like Sheldon from the Big Bang Theory, but actually has a libido to go along with his genius and ego. Let's face it guys, he's only in it for the hot computer babe Anne.**

 **Also, the reason why I had James take charge of this mission? Because I wanted to show that America still kinda somewhat follows protocol. She's following her senior. It won't always be like this, America will show that she can lead, and James will let her lead, but for this mission, I thought I'd show off my male deputy in this chapter. And Nick was tagging along because I never really got to fight with him on the ground. Thought it'd be fun.**


	15. Well Shit

Kenneth was once a wayward, unemployed bachelor. After graduating from Hope County High, he had hoped to get out of this nowhere County and go to college down at Missoula. He had plans, big plans, but those plans ended before he could even start. His got scammed and lost everything and was forced to move back with his parents. He bounced from dead-end job to dead-end job, forever in the limbo that was life.

Then he met John Seed. There was a man who had seen it all and done it all and yet was still so unfulfilled. Empty inside. And yet, he found purpose in the Project. A purpose worthy of living for. Here was a community that looked after each other. A community that helped pick you up, dust you off, and put you back on the right path. Project at Eden's Gate was exactly what he was looking for.

He didn't need to worry about an income, feeding himself or his parents, clothing himself or trying to keep himself fit. PEG gave him all of that. Everyone was working together toward a better tomorrow. And when the Collapse came, a better tomorrow could shine over the horizon.

And yet . . .

Kenneth sat in the back of the cult's white pickup truck. They were in a line of vehicles on their way to the Catamount Mines. Kenneth was gripping his rifle nervously. A premature sweat was going down his brow. He tried not looking ahead; instead at his feet, in fear that what was coming would not.

The Project was faltering. At least, in John's chapter. No one wanted to admit it or no one wanted to say it out loud, in fear of John's . . . outbursts.

But it WAS happening. The Resistance had gained strength and were taking everything they were working so hard for. The fools had no idea just how many people they were killing by just stealing from them. And then there was the people they were killing directly.

Kenneth remembered a time when no one dared opposed them. Wearing Joseph's Cross meant that you were special and if anyone tried to hurt you because of that, they were the enemy. It seemed for a while those enemies were very, very few. Now? Somehow the Sinners were multiplying like roaches.

"We're coming up on the mines." His leader said. "Everyone stay sharp."

If Kenneth gripped his gun any tighter he would be afraid of bending the barrel.

"Don't worry, Ken." The young man looked over at the older gentleman sitting next to him. "We have God and the Father on our side."

Jory was his name. He was like a second father to Kenneth. He looked out for the young man when he first joined up with Eden's Gate.

"Right." Was all Kenneth said. Inside though?

'How much did that help the others who fought the Resistance? How much did it help the ones working at the mines?'

The Catamount Mines was a valuable spot to the Project. Not only was it a good place for tools and equipment, but there were rumors that an untapped gold vein was discovered deep in the mine. Enough gold to build another fifty-foot statue of the Father. Of course, those were just rumors. Kenneth had no idea if they were true or not.

What he did know to be true was the fact that the Snake, Deputy Jones, and her foolish Guns for Hire, were attacking it. Last report said they were attempting to blow it up.

"We're entering the Mines. Everyone stay sharp and try to—"

Suddenly the windshield shattered and Kenneth's leader recoiled. Blood spouted out of his forehead and a new hole was added.

"Shit!" Jory shouted.

The line of trucks crashed and piled up on each other. Kenneth jerked back and forth as the truck crunched and rumbled. When it stopped they were still not given a reprieve. Above, they could hear the sound of a plane flying over, followed by the sound of heavy gunfire.

"Shit! OUT! OUT! OUT!" Jory pushed him. They got out just as the Rye family plane strafed the collided cars. Kenneth looked with a mix of shock and horror as his people were mowed down. The trucks themselves were turned into swiss cheese and the followers?

Some got out in time . . . others weren't so lucky.

"Kenneth, don't just lie there! MOVE!" Jory pushed him again. Kenneth was just in a dazed and moved wherever Jory pushed him. Which was further into the Catamount Mines.

As he was being dragged into cover, Kenneth looked around and saw the bodies of the fallen. Fighters that died long before they showed up. Even as they were moving, even more of his people were being shot. A green dot would show up somewhere on their bodies and then they were gone. There wasn't even a gunshot, just a bullet.

"Sniper on the top floor!" Someone shouted. They were quickly dropped after.

"We got to get in there!" Jory shouted, taking charge. "They plan to blow up the whole mine! We gotta get rid of these sinners and their bombs! For John! For the Father! Everything in this mine belongs to them!"

He looked at the remaining group and selected three. "Benny, Ronda, Len, you three charge up while we give you cover fire alright? You take out that sniper, ya hear me?"

They nodded.

"Provide cover fire!"

They followed the order and the three rushed inside. As they got through the door, one was immediately shot down by Grace who drew a pistol.

The two charged in guns ablazing. One of them tried going around Grace to flank her, but they were countered when Boomer lept out of a hiding spot. They were tackled to the ground and were mauled to death. The last cultist was killed when Grace shot a round through their chest.

"Benny? Ronda? Len? Answer me damnit, did you make it in?" Jory called on their radio.

Boomer picked up the radio and brought it to Grace. The hound scampered off to scout and ambush again.

Grace said, "They didn't make it far motherfucker." And followed that up with a headshot to another peggie.

"Fuck! Everyone stay down!" Jory tried to control the situation, but hell would break loose again when the foreboding whistle noise came back.

"Oh no—"

"Everyone SCATTER!"

The bomb dropped and exploded in the middle of them. More cars were destroyed and Kenneth saw two more of Joseph's faithful be obliterated into chunks. The young man couldn't hear anything now except a high-pitched, painful ringing.

As he laid there hopelessly, he watched several more of his people get gunned down by the Armstrong bitch. Jory then entered his view. He was saying something, but Kenneth still couldn't hear. The young follower then blacked out.

Kenneth came to not too long later. The fight at the mines was still going on. Jory was shouting orders at everyone. They were a lot closer to the main building now then last he remembered. They were even in a different position. Somewhere on the east side, on the cliffs.

"Jory?"

"Kenneth!" The big man smiled and hugged him. I'm so glad you're alright.

"What's going on?"

"We managed to gain some ground." He looked over to the bodies of others. "At great sacrifice. But we're pushing! We're nearly inside and we can kill those blasted sinners."

"Jory! The Deputy stopped firing her machine gun. She must be out of ammo. We have an opening!"

"Then push! Push on! For Herald John! For Father Joseph!"

They all zerg rushed in and were prepared for a close quarter fight. But they were all surprised to find no sign of the Deputy or her Sinners.

"Where are they?"

"Jory, we found the bombs!"

"Well, disable them you morons!"

Just as they were starting on that, Zip Kupka came over the radio.

"Hellooo, puppets of the establishment!"

"Who is this?"

"This is the man who fights injustice wherever it may lie. I am the man who speaks the truth when no others will admit it. I am . . . Ziiiiiip Kupka!"

Every single peggie looked at each other, confused as hell.

"I heard about you. A nuisance, like a fly. What are you doing here?" Jory asked.

"I'm the orchestrator of this little operation. I knew what you mindless morons were really doing with this mine. Well now you and your cult can no longer use this place's gold to further the government's corrupt plan." Zip declared.

The cultists were even more confused now.

"The government?"

"Wait, there's still gold here?"

"Shut it!" Jory yelled. "It's over, sinner; your plan failed. Your precious Snake and her hired guns ran off like cowards leaving your bombs unprotected." He sneered. Ken on the other hand, felt a cold shiver down his spine.

"On the contrary, they were just fighting you off until those special bombs of my own personal make were primed and ready. And they are _very_ much primed."

"Oh no." Jory realized. "Run, Everyone, RUN!"

"NOW TIGHTEN YOUR BUTTHOLE AND BEAR WITNESS TO THE SIGHTS AND SOUNDS OF TRUE, UNADULTERATED JUSTICE!"

The cultists barley made for the doors before the bombs finally went off. The explosion blasted them all away. It literally blew the roof off and some of the walls too. Rocks and debris went flying and some of it even killed a few cultists. By the end, most of the remaining fighters were dead, buried or knocked out.

Kenneth remained somewhat conscious for a while. Enough that he could see smoke rise from nearly every orifice of the building, both old and new. His tired eyes looked at the top of a cliff where the Deputy, Grace, Boomer, and Zip were watching from the best seat in the area.

"YOU'RE ALL GODDAMN AMERICAN HEROES! THE GLOBAL ELITIST STRATEGY IS RUINED! THE WAR FOR OUR MINDS HAS BEEN WON! JOSEPH AND HIS DEMONS HAVE BEEN SMACKED IN THE MOUTH BY OUR RED BLOODED AMERICAN TRUE GRIT WARRIORS! THIS IS WHAT WE LOOK LIKE! THIS IS WHAT WE SOUND LIKE! THIS IS WHAT WE ACT LIKE! WE ARE PIONEERS AND WE ARE HERE TO STAY!"

That was the last thing Kenneth and the others heard from the radio before they all passed out.

. . .

John looked on as more and more of his flock stumbled through the Gate's gate. More and more showed up every day, wounded, tired and defeated. Their beaten looks hurt John the most. The Resistance was pushing them out of Holland Valley little by little.

They had no major outposts left. His men were mostly stationing at small, isolated locations, scrounging up whatever they could to take back to the bunker or fighting the ever-growing forces of the heathens. But no matter where they fought, the Resistance came with a vengeance.

Many of the people he talked to said they saw the Snake, Deputy Jones. While the Resistance was fighting them all over, it seemed like the Deputy was nearly everywhere or in the thick of it at major points. And they were hardly ever alone. Always next to them was the prideful sinner, Grace, the greedy "family-man" Nick, and the hellhound, Boomer. The Deputy's sin strengthened theirs.

John saw one group he immediately recognized and quickly made his way over to them. They were a group of twenty when he sent them out, now there were only three. With one so badly injured; missing an eye.

"Kenneth!" John called fretfully. The poor kid was still bleeding and when he looked up, he had a far-away stare. Jory was holding him up, helping him get to the bunker. "What happened?"

"The Mine's gone, John." Kenneth looked down emptily. "I'm sorry, there's nothing left. The heathens blew it to heaven high."

John looked between him and Jory, who was nodding reluctantly. John wanted to curse and stab something near him, but he controlled that wrath. He needed to keep himself together now more than ever.

"If it's gone there's nothing to do about it. Get him inside, Jory. The doctors will take a look at him."

Jory nodded and started taking Kenneth inside.

"I'm sorry, John. Father forgive me."

Before John could say anything more, an explosion was heard from a distance. It was so loud it drew everyone's attention, but it was also quiet enough they could tell it was really far away.

Looking off into the distance everyone could see where the explosion came from and it sent John over the edge.

His sign; his beautiful, magnificent, eloquent sign . . . was gone. In its place, smoke, fire and rubble.

That sign was a testament to his message. A gift to the entire valley, to ALL of Hope County. A single word that was supposed to inspire and enthrall all those who saw it—

'And that **bitch** reduced it to ash.' John internally growled.

Oh, he knew it was the Deputy. Only she possessed the gall to do something so stupidly foolish and naïve. That sign had been up for years and not a single person in the entire County even dared to go near it. But the Deputy? She had no problems destroying the sacred and the beautiful, all for her misguided sense of justice.

John quickly walked somewhere private and called his most hated enemy.

He restricted his voice with barely contained contempt. "When this little uprising is over, you'll rebuild that piece by piece, Jones. You'll work until your fingers are worn to the bone. And when you're done, I'll bury you beneath it."

"Oh? But that would go against your dear Older Brother's wishes of converting me." Jones shot back mockingly, driving John's rage further up the wall. "And we both know just how much you like sucking his cock."

"YOU DARE—"

"Listen John, we both know you're not going to do anything other than spout bullshit and send your grunts to do your dirty work for you. If you were capable of doing more you would have come and gotten me yourself. Instead you taunt me, threaten me, my county, my people—nothing of substance. You're a blowhard, perfect for someone that sucks cock all day long. So, when you actually decide to be a man and not the little boy you deny yourself to be, I'll be waiting."

And with that, she cut him off.

John just stared at his radio in utter shock. Slowly he gripped the device tighter and tighter until he raised it up and slammed it into the ground. He growled like an animal and stamped on it until it was in pieces. His voice grunted; spittle waved out of clenched teeth. He was in such a blind fury he almost struck the follower that tried to get his attention from behind him.

"J-John . . .?"

John breathed heavily through his mouth. He looked over at his followers, who all had a scared and worried look on their faces.

Realizing his error, John tried correcting himself. "I apologize, brother. I forgot myself for a moment." Everyone seemed to relax, but none dared to lower their guard. This saddened John, but also made him realize his grip was slipping on everything in this valley.

He needed control back or everything would be lost.

"Listen up everyone. It's time we take a more active and . . . direct approach."

"Sir?"

"It's time the people of this Valley accepted the Word of the Father, whether they take him into their hearts willingly . . . or we shove it down their throats until they choke."

Everyone looked around at each other until all eyes returned to John. "What do you have in mind, our Herald?"

"The Deputy's sin has finally taken hold of this entire Valley and it's denizens. I am ashamed to say it's even taking ahold of me. And who knows how long it will be till it comes for the rest of us. The Snake's Wrath has nourished the other sins, letting them fester."

All of his followers grabbed their sins etched on their bodies. His words were speaking directly to their heart of hearts.

"Now is the perfect time, the only time, to strike and wipe this sickness from the earth, before it can spread to everywhere else. We will cut the sin from the Deputy's body. We shall nail each and every man and woman's sin of Fall's End to their blasphemous church, burn it to the ground and drag their screaming, dying carcasses through our gates. And we will teach them, true love and compassion, we will teach them the Word of the Father and his Holy message! And they WILL accept him into their hearts. For that is the Will of the Father."

His people cheered and clapped for him and his mercifulness. John drank up their adoration, before issuing the plan.

'Her wrath is infecting me. A perfect sign that her sin has spread everywhere. It's time to **save** her. It's time to save them all.'

 **Fall's End**

America was sitting at the Spread Eagle watching Alex and Hannah try and get away from Zip. After their operation on the Mine, the two vloggers tried to interview Zip about the whole story; wanting to know what impact it would have on the peggies and how blowing it up benefitted the Resistance. They were too late in realizing that Zip wasn't entirely there.

The conspiracy nut went on a rant and started spewing nearly every non-existent plot he knew. Of course, he talked about the Mine, he was the one who pointed them to it, but he talked more about how it was part of a major conspiracy that went past the peggies and all the way to the top of the American government. Not the white house though, something about aliens or mole people. Didn't matter; when Zip veered the talking away from the Mine, both Alex and Hannah tried to get away from him.

America just laughed, taking great joy in the moment. The Spread Eagle was a place of reprieve from the war and Eden's Gate. During people's down time, they would come here for good food and good company and atmosphere. You would almost think that there was no war or crazy cult outside the walls. Then you'd step outside, see all the armed men, supped up trucks, and machine gun mounted buildings and you'd be pulled back into the nightmare.

Her thoughts drifted to Cass. The spunky redhead had been gone for three days now. She knew the Henbane River territory was massive, so of course there might be delays, but the Deputy couldn't shake the worries from her mind. So, she went back to her meal, hoping it would help distract her.

"You look terrible, Deputy." The beautiful Mary May said, while she poured her coffee. "Are you getting any sleep?"

'Who can sleep with my nightmares?' America thought, but didn't voice. If she wasn't having nightmares about all the death and monsters around her, she was having that strange dream about being a puma of all things.

"I'm getting enough." She lied through her teeth. Everyone had enough problems; she didn't need to add to them.

Mary May didn't buy her lie, but she didn't push either. America was grateful.

"That was some good work with John's sign by the way. The county looks a lot less ugly."

America smiled as she recalled their trek up through the mountains. She, Boomer, James, and Grace carried a ton on dynamite they got from the mines and used them to blow up the "YES" sign. It was astoundingly underguarded. She guessed the peggies never thought someone would dare to destroy something so sacred.

"I just wish I could have seen John Seed's face when his precious sign went up in smoke."

"Same, Deputy. Same. Though I'm sure when you bring John to justice, he'll make an even better face." Mary then walked off to go serve the other patrons of the bar.

"We can only hope." America smirked and continued to drink her coffee.

The door opened, ringing the bell alerting everyone that someone walked in. Of course, no one cared or paid mind, but then that person tapped America's shoulder, getting her attention.

She turned around and it was one of the civilians that she and Grace saved from peggies on the road. Not everyone was fighting, armed to the teeth or swinging around weapons. Some were just helping out, taking care of the wounded, hunting, fishing, and growing food.

"Hey, Deputy." The girl greeted.

"Hi . . . uh, Marissa?"

"Alyssa." She corrected.

"Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. There's a guy outside, behind the bar, that wants to talk to you." She thumbed behind her.

America raised an eyebrow. 'That's not at all suspicious.'

"Who is it?"

"I don't know. Some weird guy in a suit. He's definitely not from here though. Thinks he's from the government."

America was skeptical again. "You think he's a Peggie?"

Alyssa shrugged. "I don't think so. He's arrogant, but he certainly doesn't act like a Peggie."

America drank the rest of her coffee and scarfed down her meal. "Thanks." She got off her seat and walked outside. She went through the alleyway and as she got closer, she could hear someone talking.

"If you're interested in something, sir, how can it be a conflict of interest? Exactly, if anyone goes against this country, we'll hit them with fire and fury. You know what? Go ahead and use that if you want."

He was some middle-aged white guy dressed very inconspicuously. If you were to pass by him, he wouldn't leave much of an impression. He wore a simple dark blue, buttoned shirt, a pair of tan pants, aviator glasses and a fedora. He had dirty blonde hair and a well-trimmed goatee.

He looked her way and whispered something into his phone before hanging up. He turned back to her and approached with an official attitude.

"Deputy Jones, thank you for coming. My name is Special Agent Willis Huntley."

America again raised an eyebrow. A wariness started growing in the pit of her stomach. "Special agent? What like FBI? DIA? CIA?"

Huntley smirked. "CIA."

She was legit surprised he answered. "What do you want?"

"Straight to the point. Good. I'll be brief. I know what you're trying to do here, Deputy and I can help. The Man in Charge has been monitoring Eden's Gate for some time. I've been sent by the highest authority to handle it."

The Man in Charge? Did he mean . . .

"Wait, so the government is aware of what's happening here?"

"They are AWARE of Eden's Gate. I can neither confirm or deny that they know what's happening now."

And America thought the Seed's bullshit stank.

"But I can certainly inform them. One simple call and I can have the proper authorities come in and clean up this mess." America couldn't help the hope rising in her chest, but just like the government he worked for, Willis was quick to dash them. "But the prepubescent eggheads at Langley tell me this is a "sharing economy" now and before we help you, you need to do something for us."

America could barely hold back from slamming her fist against the man's ugly, white-toothed face. "My people, your people, the American people are being butchered by madmen and you want to play deal or no deal for their lives?!"

Willis didn't even flinch. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the alley wall relaxingly. "Like a fine Turkish sauna: you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours. You can choose to not take this patriotic mission, but it would be very unpatriotic for you to do so. And since you share beautiful name with our beautiful country, you'd be besmirching yourself. This mission comes directly from the Big Man himself and doing a favor for the Big Man can be very rewarding. So, you in?"

What was she supposed to say? No? She didn't trust this Willis Huntley any more then she trusted the Cult. But if this ended the war quickly, even if there was a slight chance . . . she had no choice but to take it.

"I'm in."

"I got a truck around back. Don't bother getting any of your comrades, this mission's just between you and me." He started making his way to his truck. "Also, turn off your radio. I don't want anything distracting you."

America was reluctant to do so, but she needed to play along.

They went through the alley and got in a brown Ram Truck. Inside, it smelled faintly of cigarettes and car fresheners. On the dashboard were a bunch of knickknacks. The kind you would find in giftshops around the country. Snowglobes with various famous cities, replicas of iconic monuments and quite a few too many stickers. Hanging from the rearview mirror was an American flag.

The ride was surprisingly uneventful and quiet. No peggies showed up or anything. It was like they were all gone. Curiosity getting the better of her, America decided to talk to the "secret agent."

"So, what bring an agent of the CIA to a nowhere county like this?"

Huntley sounded more than happy to answer. "I was on vacation, visiting all 50 States in ascending order of patriotism when I got a call. THE Call. I've been sent here on a special mission from the Big Man himself. Jesus tapdancing Christ, just saying that gets me semi-erect. Pardon my French."

America gave him a disgusted look. Wanting to quickly change the topic, she brought up the mission.

"So, what exactly does the Big Man want?"

"He wants me to recover a tape that, if released, could make him look bad to the public. I tracked it here, to a member of Joseph's Happy Family. He's stashed it somewhere and that's where you come in."

"You need me just to fight peggies?" She couldn't believe she was basically this guy's gun. His battering-ram.

"Correct. I'm gonna lure out our man, then you're going to follow him back to his hidey-hole and get the tape back for me. Do this for your country and your country will solve your little cult problem for you."

It sounded way too easy and that was the part that bothered her the most. She knew something wasn't gonna go right on this mission. But again, she couldn't refuse, not if it meant she could save Hope County from Joseph Seed. On the other side of her mind she wondered what the tape was that the Chief wanted so badly.

"We're here. We'll go on foot the rest of the way."

Willis had drove up into the mountains and parked the truck at the bottom of a hill. America followed him through the woods until they stopped at the base of another hill, which had a watchtower on top of it.

"I need access to the equipment in that tower. Get rid of all these doomsday hippies for me." Willis ordered.

America couldn't believe this man didn't have the skills to do this himself. Looking through her binoculars it didn't seem like there were a lot of peggies either. But she bit her tongue and went in.

She crouched and ducked into a pipe that was used for run-on water when the rains were heavy. Thankfully it hadn't rained in days. She took out her bow and an arrow and got ready for her silent takedown.

After getting through the pipe, she hoofed it into the bushes and headed toward the gate, the entrance to the area. She pulled back on her bowstring and fired an arrow right into the peggie's eye. She kept low and retrieved the arrow, then dragged the fresh body into the foliage so she wouldn't be found out.

With the body disposed, she entered the facility. Looks like the place was sued as some kind of communique for the cult. Made sense, the place was high enough and remote enough the cult could gather intelligence on the valley. She wondered if maybe they had anything she could use against them. Regardless, taking them out would still help the Resistance.

America still kept crouched and slowly advanced. Peggies were on the tower and one wrongly timed turn could blow her cover and set the peggies off. One cultist was just standing near a fire, their back turned to her. She easily covered his mouth and stabbed him in the neck with an arrow.

Slowly, lowering the cultist to the ground, America took her bloody arrow and fired it into the neck of another cultist who was standing near the cliff. His buddy got spooked and turned to America. But before he could alert the whole place, the Deputy shot him in the neck.

The force caused him to stumble back as he gasped for air. He fell off the cliff, permanently silenced once he hit rock.

America looked over to her right and saw a set of crates. They were big enough and stacked that she could climb them up to the tower. Taking advantage of the setting, she climbed the tower and surprised the patrolling peggie that passed by with a stab to the gut. Looking over, she saw there was one more peggie in the inner part of the tower.

Climbing up, America kept low under the window. The peggie was none the wiser as he was fiddling with the radio. America snuck inside and grabbed him, slitting his throat easily.

The last peggies were down below, near the steps. Two peggies were exercising; doing pushups, while the third was supervising them. It was too easy.

When the instructor's back was turned from them, she lept down and stabbed the cultist in the head with her knife. The remaining peggies were shocked, but could do nothing when America raised Judgment and blasted both in the head.

America remained still. She waited and listened to see if there would be any shouts or warnings, but none came. When the coast was clear, the Deputy called Willis. The Agent rushed up and ran right passed her without so much as a congratulatory "well done."

Willis went straight for the radio on the inside the tower. He fiddled with the knobs until he had the frequency he was looking for.

"Attention Comrade, the bed has been wet. I repeat, the bed has been wet."

America jerked her head at his direction. 'What?'

Surprisingly, a Russian accent responded back. "Who is this? How did you get on this frequency?"

"I don't have time to explain, but your bunker is compromised. You need to move fast."

"Damnit. I'm at Boyd's house, I'm calling a chopper now. I'll take care of it."

And with that the conversation was over. Willis looked beyond giddy when he turned to her.

"It's tailing time, Deputy. Follow that chopper to Boyd's house, let the target get in, and they'll lead you to the yellow brick road. Remember, as ironic as this may sound, this is not a 'wetworks' mission. Surveillance only. Do not engage, unless instructed."

What the hell was with all the innuendos? She knew she was helping to cover up something embarrassing for a political figure, but what in the actual hell did they do?

"Who exactly am I tailing?" She asked, wanting some kind of clarity in this whole weird-ass situation.

"Our target was a hotel worker. He got a little too nosy with a visitor's private time in a luxury suite and it came back to bite him in the rear. Pardon my French. He fled Kremlandia and wriggled his way into the US of A and wouldn't you know it, Joseph found him and offered him sanctuary. I'm not letting that bearded kumbaya nutcase have any leverage over the Big Boss."

"Well, at least THAT makes sense. So, then what's with all of the golden shower innuendos?"

Suddenly, before she could get her question answered, a peggie helicopter flew by. "No time now. There's the chopper. Time to hightail it, Deputy."

"And how am I supposed to catch that thing?"

Willis looked down. "You can use one of those ATVs. Or use that wingsuit you used to take out the Revelator. You're pretty adept with it, kinda like that SoCal baby-face I took care of a few years ago on the Rook Islands."

America was surprised that he knew about her wingsuit. Yeah, everyone knew what she did to destroy the Revelator, but no one knew that Nick let her keep the suit as both a memento and a precaution. It meant he had gathered quite a lot of information on her. Probably ever since she liberated Fall's End. But she couldn't dwell on that right now. While the copter was still in her sights, America suited up in wingsuit and started soaring.

It was a good thing she was on a mountain; else she wouldn't have gotten far by flying. She veered past trees and kept her speed and height steady. She could still see the copter in her sights and soon she saw it's stop. She pulled up on her wings then activated her chute.

A little rough, but her landing was still perfect. She quickly released her chute and then stuffed her suit in her bag. There was Boyd's house. A decent looking abode, if it weren't for the graffiti on it saying stuff like "Traitor" and "Kinslayer." Whoever Boyd was he was apparently not well liked by the cult.

Outside, the copter landed and out of the house came a single, white man. He had black hair, and a long scraggily beard. He looked just like all the other peggies she fought and killed.

He got into the chopper and it took off.

"Shit!" She forgot about tracking him from the house. Looking around, she saw an ATV and thankfully the dumbass left the keys in the ignition.

America drove after it. This time chasing the copter by wheels. She swerved around trees and jumped hills that made her teeth rattle and bones vibrate. The copter was going over terrain that nearly made her crash several times.

She nearly lost sight of the helicopter a few times, but she ultimately kept up and got to the spot. The new hideout was just another simple house, but this one was new and still had a for sale sign still in the front. The peggies there though seem to have made it quite homey. Some were even lazing around in lawn chairs.

The helicopter landed and the Russian got out of his helicopter and headed around the house. America called Willis.

"Willis, I tracked the target to a house near the lake. Address is 1890 Richard Street."

"Hmph, on my way. It's time for the stick, Deputy. Clear the area and take out the target. The item you're looking for is a hard copy, like an old VHS tape. It has to be hidden somewhere on the premises."

America watched the Russian walk to the backyard and make his way toward the shed. She pulled out a couple grenades and tossed them at the feet of the peggies. The cultists were caught off guard by the explosions and quickly mowed down by America and her lever-action rifle.

The disoriented cultists barely had a chance to fight back before she shot them down. Looking down the iron of her rifle she was at a range where she could get them in the head or in the chest area. It wasn't long before they were all dead.

Heading over to the shed, America found the Russian and kicked him over. He was bleeding from several spots on his torso. He caught a lot of shrapnel from her grenades and bled out.

Looking to the shed, she entered it. It was mostly empty, save for a few tools here and there. But then there was the noticeable hatch. Gripping the handle and giving it a strong tug, it creaked open. Climbing down the ladder, she was now in a simple shotgun bunker. There was a bunkbed, a fridge, a table with a tv and a bathroom. Someone could stay in here safe for a while, but not for a long period of time.

"Now if I was a tape used to blackmail a douchey politician where would I be hidden?" She pondered.

She looked in the beds, but found nothing. She went into the bathroom and examined the cabinet and even the toilet, the latter which she explored thoroughly. Then she looked in and around the couch, but still came up empty. It wasn't a big bunker, the tape had to be somewhere.

She opened the fridge and was met with the smell of rotten food.

"Shit!" She quickly slammed it shut. "Hope someone bought the warranty on that."

It hit her then: the fridge wasn't running. Looking behind it, she pulled open it's frame and . . .

And there it was. The tape. Just like Willis said, it was an old VHS tape.

"Man, how long has it been since I've watched one of these?"

She looked over at an old box-tv set, complete with an inbuilt VHS player. She looked between the tape and the tv for a few short moments. 'Willis is still a bit far behind. I'm sure I've got a little time to watch it.'

"Just a peek." She said.

She turned on the tv and slid the tape through the slot. Pressing play, there was a flash of light and then static. Then the picture became clearer and America was hit with shocking disgust.

"What—"

"That's right girl, right on that."

"The—"

"Yeah, that's right. Mess it up."

"Fuck?"

"Don't miss a single inch. I want to make sure they know who's King now."

The Deputy continued to watch for another minute or so before turning it off. She really didn't need to see the rest. What was there more to see?

A shiver ran down her spine just thinking of the possibilities.

Was this the most disgusting thing she had ever seen? No, not by a long shot. Cops see more shit then anything this video could dish out, literally and figuratively. Hell, she's seen worse in the last few days; this video didn't even make the top 10.

But what this video was, was proof. Evidence that would no doubt hurt the leader of her country if it was in the wrong hands. To the public, this would besmirch the man more than his own words ever could.

Who knows what can of worms this could open if it got out? Rewinding the tape back, America looked between the tv and exit while she waited. She pondered for a moment on the tape. Then on Willis. And then the Big Man. It was almost too easy to come up with the decision she made.

Several minutes later, America climbed out of the shed. Going around to the front, Willis was waiting or her, leaning on his truck, while talking on his phone. From the sound of it, he was talking to the Chief again. America raised waved the tape at him. The agent smiled

"Sir, I'm happy to report I got the tape." Willis' smile quickly vanished. "What's that? Are you kidding me, sir?" Then his smile came back in full force. "Chief of Staff? I'd be honored. I'll be there in twelve hours."

As soon as he turned off the call, he swiped the tape from her hands.

"Alright, Willis, I got your tape. A deal's a deal. Now call in the National Guard to get rid of the peggies."

"Yeah about that . . ."

America's face dropped into a scowl that could burn a man alive. "Don't fuck with me, Willis . . ."

The agent didn't seem intimidated in the least. "Sorry kid, but I've got bigger fish to fry and this bearded uprising just became way below my paygrade."

"We had a deal, Willis. Our people are dying here! Good people! Families!"

"And that is a tragedy, but not totally unexpected. Sorry, Deputy but you're gonna have to solve this conundrum all on by yourself. Teach a man to fish and all that jazz."

"The American way used to mean a deal was a deal, but we live in a new America now. I know you were wishing for a handout, but that's just how it is. Reminds me of something my Grandmother used to say. Wish in one hand, shit in the other and see which one fills up first. Ah . . . I miss her. See ya around kiddo." He was about to head back into his truck, when he heard the distinctive sound of a click.

Willis turned around and saw America raised her gun, pointed at his face. Her scowl had formed into one of pure rage and it took everything she had to not just shoot the bastard right there and then.

"What do you think you're doing Deputy?"

"Do I have to sound cliché?"

. . .

"Justice."

Willis unleashed a boisterous laugh. It felt so degrading to be laughed at by a piece of shit like him, but the Deputy still didn't waive her gun.

"Justice? C'mon, Deputy, we both know you're not going to shoot me."

*BANG*

"AH!" Willis grabbed his arm. It was merely a graze, but it still hurt.

"Hands!" She wasn't gonna let this man have any chance of retaliating. Willis reluctantly did what she asked.

"I am a CIA agent, Deputy! You think killing me will fix this all of this? All it will do is bring down the hammer on you and your precious little nowhere County. You really want to do that?"

"What I want is for my government to do their jobs and do something about Eden's Gate! You clearly have a way out of here, you can warn someone!"

"Heh, heh 'fraid I can't, Deputy. There are bigger things going then you know. All I can say is: a lot is riding on the outcome of Hope County. I'm not exaggerating when I say that our country's future rests in both the Resistance's and the Cult's hands."

"What bullshit are you spewing now?"

Willis just kept grinning. "I'm not at liberty to say."

America started growling. "I am so sick and tired of your cryptic bull. If I kill you, then maybe the CIA will investigate and be forced to send help."

Again, Willis laughed. "Killing me will do nothing but one of two things. If you kill me and succeed in liberating Hope County, I can guarantee you will be tracked down, locked up and never see daylight again. If you don't liberate the county, well you'll be dead. The peggie's will have killed you and you will be blacklisted as a traitor to your country and even all of Hope County will feel the weight of your betrayal."

"I'm not betraying my country! I'm trying to save a little piece of it for God's sake!" She roared.

"That's not how the world will see it. Believe me. Killing me is going against your country."

"Now you listen here, you slimy, shit-eating, weasel. You are not my country. My government is NOT my country. My country is the land, the people and the standards in which it stands for. It ain't perfect, it's done horrible things, and sometimes it's a downright shitty place to live. But I still love it all the same and as a Deputy, and officer of the law, I will perform my solemn oath in protecting the people in it and upholding justice."

"Killing me won't be justice. It'll just be murder."

That almost sounded like a sick joke coming from him.

"It's Old World America justice, Willis. And if this is a new America, then I guess justice will have to be served in a new way too."

. . .

"So, Willis," She brought the barrel closer to his head, "what's in my hand? A wish or shit?"

Once again, the duo was met with silence. Willis did nothing for a while except stare. Then in a flash his hands moved. America nearly pulled the trigger, but it turned out the agent was clapping. No, applauding.

"Congratulations, Deputy, you passed the test!" He said jovially.

"What?"

"Only a real American would use force to get what she wants. That's how real Americans work. That's how real Americans get shit done. You want something done right, you do it yourself. You have learned to fish."

That earned a smack to the head with the handle of her gun.

"Ah! Oh yeah, you've definitely learned. Maybe you and this county will survive the new America. I can't call in the Guard. No outside help will come until a certain point. But I can do second best."

"Which is?"

Slowly he pulled out his phone and dialed someone up. America just watched him silently, ready for any kind of surprise to come from the man.

"Yeah it's me. Yeah, she passed. Drop it." Then he hung up. "Alright, Dep you got your wish. I can't call in the National Guard, but I can give you something to give you an edge. A shit ton of guns and ammo. Plenty to supe-up your little Resistance. This is the best you're gonna get from me and your government. Take it or leave it."

America pondered for a bit. The man was a liar, or at least a backstabber. Untrustworthy was probably the best word for him. As much as it pained her to say it though; for all her bravado a moment ago, he was right. Killing him would do nothing but make another corpse. But she needed to get something out of this excursion!

The roar of a plane went over their heads. Looking up, a plane, higher than any plane in Hope County could go, flew over them. It dropped something big and was carried off by a parachute.

"If you want those supplies, you're gonna have to go get them. I'd hurry too, no doubt the beardos saw it too."

"Damnit." She lowered Judgement. "Fine, Willis. You walk."

"See, Dep. I'm not so bad a guy."

"Just get outta here, coward. I got a war to win."

"That's the spirit, kiddo." He backed away, still facing her. "Keep that way of thinking, it fits your name perfectly." He opened his truck door and got in. "Bon Voyage, Deputy, you've served your country well."

And with that he performed a U-turn and sped off, away from the Deputy and away from all the craziness of Hope County.

When the truck was out of sight, America pulled out her own phone and looked through her video library. She selected the most recent one and watched it. Again, she was met with the unpleasant sight of two prostitutes pissing and shitting on a mattress.

"Sorry, Mr. Trump, but no one fucks with America." Considering the strings being pulled, the Deputy needed insurance in case Willis or someone like him or worse came back. Her job was to protect Hope County and if that meant using a bit of "leverage" against their President, then so be it.

She honestly didn't have anything against the orange idiot, unlike a lot of people in America, but she certainly didn't like him either.

She turned off the video and put her phone away, before heading off for the supplies. Making a mental note to make copies when she had the time.

"Whatever, I didn't vote for him."

. . .

Two peggies had seen the crate fall from the sky and land in the forest. They easily found it thanks to the red signal smoke being sprayed from it. Now they were just wondering what exactly to do.

"Should we call John?"

"Don't you remember? John wanted radio silence for the next couple of hours."

"Well we gotta tell someone about this stuff!"

Their conversation was interrupted though when a bat smashed into one of their heads. The second peggie turned to his friend but was met with a bat straight in the face. America wiped the blood from the Star Spangled Basher on their clothes and approached the large crate.

Opening the crate, she let out a long whistle at the amount of high-grade equipment in there.

America got on the horn and called Grace.

"Hey, Grace, you're not gonna believe what I—

"Deputy where have you been?!"

America was shocked to hear the former soldier so panicked. "Grace what's wrong?"

"What's wrong?! John fucking Seed just took the church in Fall's End and everyone in it, hostage. Including Pastor Jerome, Mary, and Nick. He wanted everyone out of town or else he'd kill them."

America's eyes widened and panic settled in the pit of her stomach.

"Fall's End . . . is captured?"

Suddenly, John's voice overtook every radio in the valley.

"Greeting Fall's Enders, John Seed here. Inquisitor of Holland Valley and Herald to our beloved Prophet the Father. I am here to spread his Word where it is deafened and bring peace of mind to those that are lost. And there are many here that are lost, scared, and confused. I can take you all onto the right path, for that is the Will of the Father. And the first step to allowing him into your hearts and souls is through atonement."

"Atonement is the final step before fully accepting he Word of the Father into your heart. Our sins, having finally being exposed can now be removed. Freeing our souls and opening our hearts. Now, the pain of atonement measured by the severity of the sin and thanks to your Deputy, the sins of this Resistance are indeed ... severe. You will all atone for what the Deputy has done. You will all welcome the Word of the Father into your hearts. You will all say . . . **Yes**."

* * *

 **I am not Tom Clancy. You have no idea how hard it was to write that final scene with Willis and America. How would someone like her respond and react? What would Willis say? How can I incorporate this whole thing into my story so it doesn't just feel like another filler like the last chapter?**

 **It's HARD. Political and Shadowy intrigue are not my strong suits. It's just easier visiting a nowhere 3** **rd** **world country and blowing shit up there.**

 **I hope I at least I got you guys intrigued.**


End file.
